Percy Jackson and the Forgotten God
by Selacha
Summary: AU story. When 7-year old Percy Jackson runs away from an abusive home life, he is found and rescued by an ancient god, forgotten by humans and ignored by Olympus. The ancient deity only wants a family, and Percy needs a father. How will his life differ when Percy is raised by the eldest and most powerful of all the Gods? -T rating for child abuse and language.
1. Prologue

**A/N: So, reading through every fandom that peaks my interest may not be the best idea. I keep getting all these ideas for stories I want to write. And I usually end up doing so...**

**Anyway, this is a Percy Jackson AU story, where his mother is killed by his abusive stepfather Gabe and he is taken in by an ancient god. I've read a couple where Percy is adopted or cared for by another god or goddess and it completely changes his life. The best two that come to mind are ****Intertwined Destinies**** and ****The Queen's Champion****, both by Anaklusmos14, a very talented writer.**

**Before anyone asks, Aurelius is an OC, not an original Greek God. If somewhere there is a god named Aurelius, this probably isn't him. Aurelius is adapted from 'aurum', which is Latin for 'gold'.**

**WARNING: Mentions of child abuse and language. That's why it's rated 'T'.**

**Okay, that's all there is besides the disclaimer. So read and enjoy, and if you like it leave a review!**

**Disclaimer: Percy Jackson and all related characters belong to Rick Riordan. Only Aurelius, Ilex and all OOCness belong to me.**

* * *

**Prologue: Son of Power, Son of Gold**

**Percy's POV**

I run as fast as I can, stumbling only once on my bad leg. I was pretty proud; usually I get tripped a lot more than that when I run. But usually I don't have to run as fast as this. Even on his worst days I never ran as hard as I am now.

The streets of Manhattan are crowded today, despite how cold it is out. It's late November, and winter is really close. I think I heard someone on the TV say it might snow tonight. I don't want it to snow tonight. I'll be cold, outside. It doesn't really look like snow either. The storm clouds are too fat, and I can hear thunder start to rumble. The crowds don't notice me running through them. They look only at themselves, or their phones, or the sky, or each other. They never look down and see the 7-year old boy running alone, tears of fear on his face.

I don't want to cry. Whenever I cry he hits me, but that just makes me cry more, which makes him hit me more. It's a vicious cycle. I learned just not to cry in the first place, but that only stopped maybe a fifth of the beatings. But I can't help it; I'm too afraid of the monsters.  
I risk a glance behind me, but the monster is still following me. I can see it, but no one else can. They let out funny laughs or cute coos at the sight of it. "Someone let a dog loose?" "Aww, look at the pretty poodle!" "Hey, someone get a leash on that mutt!" All these shouts hit my ears as I run away. They can't see the monster, but I can. It is as big as a large dog. But it isn't a dog. The mouth is huge, full of drooling, gnashing, razor sharp teeth. The fur is pitch black and ragged, showing patches of burnt pale skin. But the eyes are the scariest part. They glow red, like they're full of fire.

I try and lose it, ducking into a small alley that smells like trash and urine. Suddenly changing directions helped before, it made the monster confused. But not this time. The monster sniffs the ground outside the alley as I try to hide behind a dirty dumpster. It slowly enters the space between the two buildings, head to the ground, locking on to my scent.

I back up slowly, but my bad leg drags and makes a scraping sound. The monster's head shoots up, its ears slide back and its flaming eyes narrow onto me. A low, scratchy growl emits from the monster's throat.

I keep going backwards, but I trip on a beer bottle. I'm usually better at not stepping on them; when I do he makes me pick up the glass with my bare hands. After grinding his own feet into them, making them into far more numerous razor sharp shards, of course. I land on my butt, hard. I scoot backwards, until to my horror I find my back against the wall.

"Help! Someone, please help!" I scream as hard as I can. But I'm too far away from the sidewalk for anyone to hear me over the sounds of New York. That, or no one cares.

Probably the latter.

My throat hurts from the yell, only further irritating the roughness left over from my sobbing. And both of those only reopen the cuts on the inside of my throat, from when he made me swallow a shot glass before hitting me and breaking it. I didn't mind that one as much, though. He had to take me to a hospital, and he couldn't hit me for six days as my throat healed with all the nurses and doctors around. But when we got home he made me pay for all the money the hospital cost...

I don't think the six days were really worth it.

The monster is getting closer now, saliva dripping from its maw. When it hits the ground it sizzles. I start to cry again. I really don't want to die.

"Go 'way!" I shout at the monster. But it keeps coming forward, and I swear it's smiling at me. I close my eyes; I don't want to look anymore. I can smell its breath, more horrible than any scent I've ever smelled before.

Dying won't be so bad, I tell myself. I'll see my mom again. And maybe my real dad. Mom said he wasn't dead, but I want him to be. Because if he isn't, then that means he left us alone on purpose.

He left us alone with Gabe on purpose.

Just as I'm sure I'm about to die, a flash of light fills my eyes, even though they're closed. I hear a loud thud, following a wet squelching noise, preceding a cut-off whine. I open my eyes again, and I don't believe what I see before me.

The monster is slowly dissolving into golden dust, until nothing of its body is left; just piles of dust. Stuck into the ground, right where the monster's head was, is a golden sword. The sword is huge; it must be at least six feet long. The blade is wider than both of my hands side by side, with a shallow groove cut into the center, and is just about as thick as my good hand laid flat. There is no cross-guard, just the blade ending in a half circle before the handle sticks out. The handle is wrapped in leather, and is about a foot-and-a-half long. The pommel has a symbol shaped like an eight pointed star radiating from it. A pair of ribbons split off from where the leather meets the pommel. And the whole thing is golden. The blade is as gold as my mother's old necklace, before Gabe pawned it. The leather looks as soft as butter, and just a few shades darker. The pommel is the same color as the blade, darker than the leather. The two ribbons are the color of newly forged bullion, glowing with warmth and power. The entire surface of the weapon is engraved with row after row of strange symbols and characters.

I slowly reach out with my left hand, my mangled fingers only a few inches away from the blade, when I hear a voice.

"I wouldn't touch that, young one. The blade is still filled with power." I didn't see the man approach. I didn't hear the man approach. It was like he was suddenly just _there_.

It was quite obvious the sword belonged to him; he was just as golden as the sword itself. His long hair was metallic gold, catching every ray of the poor lighting in the alley, making the neck-length strands glow. His skin was a caramel-like bronze, filled with an inner light. The clothing he wore was unusual; a long, thick overcoat the same color as the leather of the sword. The coat covered a sweater that looked like it was woven out of butter. His legs were covered by long, creased formal pants, matching the coat in color. He wore closed toe sandals that looked like they were made of solid gold. He was tall, at least six-and-a-half feet tall. He was also muscular, with wide shoulders a line-backer would be jealous of and arms and a torso that looked ripped from a magazine. But the most entrancing part of the stranger was his eyes. They looked like someone had taken two golden eagle dollars and slid them into his eye sockets. They glowed with an inner light and warmth that dwarfed the sun's pitiful attempts to breach the storm. The storm that had seemed to stop with the appearance of this man...

"Are you all right, child?" His voice was odd. I expected someone so big to have a deep, angry voice. But his voice was soft, and kind. I don't know why, but it made me feel safe.

"Th-that monster t-t-tried to e-eat me." I was still crying. I hoped he wouldn't hit me for it, like Gabe would. "B-but that s-sword killed it f-for me." I sniffled in as many tears as I could.

He looked sadly at me, and I'm not sure why. But his voice was still the same, soft and kind, when he spoke again.

"What is your name, my child?"

I choked back another few tears so I could speak without trembling again.

"Perseus Jackson."

* * *

**Aurelius' POV**

I can not help but feel pity for the young boy cowering before me. It is obvious he has no idea who, or even what he is. I had been soaring through the storm, conversing with some of the local storm spirits, absorbing the excess energy caused by the unseasonal lightning strikes. I had heard a child's cry on the breeze, and had flown closer for a look. Seeing an innocent child, so obviously in peril, stirred my heart. I had thrown my sword, _Glorious_, into the beast's skull, sending its essence back to Tartarus.

The last traces of the Hellhound I slew finally fade away, and a stray breeze scatters the dust through the filthy alley. I take a good look at this boy, this Perseus, and I am infuriated and saddened even more by what I see.

He is very young, perhaps seven or eight. His hair is black as charcoal, but it is messy and matted with what I hope isn't, but probably is, blood. His skin looks like it should be a healthy seaman's tan, but it is pale and sickly. His nose has been broken many times, and never set right; the bridge is swollen, and the tip is pointed to the right of his face, crooked by almost a few inches. His right leg is bent the wrong way, the calf at a 30 degree angle to the thigh, pointing to the right away from his body, starting at the knee. His left hand is also handicapped; the first and second fingers are curled in, while the thumb seems to not be able to move from the base of his ring finger. The last two fingers seem relatively unharmed, but the entire hand is covered in scars. Through the large holes in the tattered sweatshirt he is wearing I can see his ribs, showing through his skin. The skin I can see is all covered in scars, bruises, burns and cuts still fresh enough to glisten. But the worst part is his eyes. For the eyes of a child, they are full of too much pain and suffering. They are a deep sea-green in color, tickling my memory. He is afraid, afraid of something, probably whoever hurt him like this.

It has been many centuries since last I spoke to a mortal so young. But the memories come, and I adapt them to what I have observed about this era.

"Perseus. That is a very nice name. But it seems very long, doesn't it? I bet you like to be called something else, eh?" He looks so scared it is breaking my heart. In all my eons, no one has ever feared me before. I do not like it.

"M-my mom calls... _called_ me Percy." He sniffles out.

"Would you mind if I called you Percy, then?" He doesn't answer in words, but he nods slowly.

"Alright Percy. My name... is Aurelius."

The boy giggles, despite his tears running freely. "That's a silly name." He then claps his hands over his mouth, as if terrified he has said something wrong. I just tilt my head back and let out a soft laugh. "Yes, to the modern age, I suppose my name must sound rather odd. But I've had it for a while now, and I'm used to it."

Percy sniffles again, but he's smiling now, and that makes me very happy. I need to know what has happened to such a sweet child.

"Percy, why are you all alone on the streets?"

He shrinks in on himself, and starts crying again. "I... I ran away. Usually whenever I run away I never get too far because Gabe catches me. But this time the monster scared me and I ran really fast. I'm not even sure where I am now..." He finishes in a soft voice.

"And who is this... 'Gabe'? Is he your father?"

"No. He's my stepfather. Mom married him when I was little, and now he's the only one who knows I exist..." He's crying again, loudly. I slowly approach him, but he shrinks even more into the wall. Undaunted, I lower myself until I'm sitting on the ground, on his level. "And where is your mother?"

"G-Gabe got really, really angry a couple years ago, a-and he pushed her, and she fell down the stairs, and... and..." Percy is bawling now, and I am shocked. If this child could see a man apparently kill a woman in cold blood, why was he not in prison? I normally don't like to do this, but my curiosity had been raised. I let my mind probe into the mind of the weeping child in front of me, and a surge of images assault my conscious...

_I see a large, fat man, and all of the memories associate him with a terrible odor. He is a drunkard, and an abusive one at that. I see him beat the child with belts and kick him with boots. I see cigarette burns and cuts from broken bottles. A day where the fat man lost his job, he dragged Percy outside and ran over his right leg with his car. I see the fat man slapping a woman, beautiful but bruised and crying. Percy threw a glass at his head, and the fat man lets go of the woman. He grabs the hand Percy used to throw the glass and slams it repeatedly in the door-frame. The boy looked around 5 in the memory... I see Percy crying as an ambulance pulls away, the beautiful woman in the back; she wasn't moving when they loaded her in. The fat man pulls him inside, and adds new scars to his body for crying to the neighborhood. When Percy runs away, screaming down the street for help, the fat man shoves a shot glass down his throat, before pushing the boy hard enough the shatter the glass. So many memories, so much pain, all caused by the fat man. _

_One final memory surfaces, from when the child must have been only a few days old. He would not consciously remember this._

_He is in a crib in a small apartment, much cleaner than the ruined shell of a house they shared with the fat man. The beautiful woman, who must be his mother, is crying against the chest of a man. He is tall, with rugged features,black windswept hair and eyes a deep sea-green... the same color as his son's eyes. This is the boy's father. The immortal who left his own son to suffer a fate worthy of the Fields of Punishment. I recognize him, and I am furious:_

_Poseidon._

_Brother._

I come out of the memory stream with tears of rage and disgust in my eyes. I am so furious, I lose control of my form for a moment. I hear a rustle of cloth and feathers as my wings spread forth from my back. A ten-foot wingspan of glittering golden feathers stretch across my back, a single flap stirring the garbage even more. Percy has stopped crying and is staring at me in awe.

"A-are you an angel?" His voice is still too quiet, and I realize that shot glass probably damaged his vocal cords.

"No, I am not an angel, Percy. I am a god."

"You-you're God?" His eyes are, if possible, even wider than before.

"No, my boy, I am _a _god. Tell me Percy, do you know anything about Greek Myths?"

The boy nods slowly. "Mom used to read me bedtime stories from a big book of myths. I liked the stories of all the heroes who helped people. That's why mom named me Perseus; he was the only hero to get a happy ending."

"Yes, he did, didn't he? Well, those stories are true. The Greek gods are all real and alive. I am one of them."

"Are you Zeus? No, are you Cupid? Cause, you have the wings..."

I can only smile at the boy's naivety. "No, as I mentioned before, I am Aurelius. I would not be mentioned in any book, Percy. Humankind sort of... forgot about me." The boy sniffles at my words, and I can see they have struck a chord. I shuffle closer, and he doesn't shy away from me. I lean against the wall next to him, and reach an arm out to encircle his shoulders. He leans into my chest, crying softly again.

"Shh, shh. Don't cry child. Nothing will harm you while I am here."

"Why did that monster try to eat me?"

"That is because _you_ are a demigod. Your father was a god, and your mother was a mortal."

"Really?" I nod at the confused look on his face. "Who is it? Who's my father?"

"...I have an idea of who it may be, though I sorely hope I am wrong. Tell me Percy, what is your favorite animal?"

He looks confused by the question, but answers anyway. "Horses. They're really cool, and whenever I see one they act nice. Gabe said I was just being stupid..."

"And do you like to go swimming?" I ask quickly to change the subject off of the horrid mortal.

He nods furiously. "Yeah! I love the water, it feels really nice, and it makes me feel safe. I can hold my breath for a really long time, too. Sometimes I think I can even _breathe_ underwater."

It is all but certain that this young child is my nephew, abandoned by my brother Poseidon. One last test, just to make sure. I swirl my hand in the air, and a golden goblet of crystal clear water forms in my grasp.

"Percy, may I see your hand?" I gesture to a large gash on the back of his normal hand, which scraped against the wall when he fell before. He nervously holds out his hand, and I gently take hold of his fingers. I pour some of the water out of the goblet onto his hand, and I hear him gasp as the wound closes without so much as a scar to show it was there.

"Wh-what just happened?" He looks scared, but also amazed.

"It is as I thought. Percy, you are the son of my younger brother, Poseidon, God of the Sea. Making you my nephew."

"So... my dad is alive?" I nod, hoping to bring some comfort to the boy. But instead, his face scrunches up in anger as more tears pour down his face. "So, so he just left us? He-he abandoned us wi-with Gabe? Why? Why would he do that to us? He... _he left my mom to die..._" Percy is crying very loudly, clutching my shirt for comfort. I rub his shoulder soothingly, and wrap my wings closer around the pair of us.

"The gods are not allowed to visit their children, Percy. That is the truth of it. But they usually at least make sure their children are well cared for. I... I am ashamed of my brother for his actions."

Percy sniffled again. "Um, Mr. Aurelius, can I ask you a favor?"

"Anything, my boy."

"Can... can you bring my mom back? Please?" My heart breaks even more at this simply made request, asked by a tear-stained and heartbroken boy.

"I am sorry, Percy. But that is something not even I can do." He looks so sad, so I struggle to think of something, anything to cheer him up. "If you'd like, I could introduce you to your father?"

Percy immediately tenses up, and shouts, "NO! No, I never want to see him ever! He... he abandoned us! He _*sniff* _he left us to die! I hate him! I HATE HIM!"

I am shocked, but not entirely surprised by his outburst. If I were the boy, I certainly would hate my father as well.

"Then where will you go, Percy?" He snaps out of his rage filled, tear-streaked face and looks once again like a scared little boy lost in the world.

"P-please don't make me go back to Gabe! Please, please, please!" I am stunned by the amount of tears this child can produce as he begs me not to return him to his abusive stepfather, and in that instant I make a decision. A decision that I know will change the lives of not only young Perseus, but myself as well.

"I would never take you back there, Percy, I promise. In fact, I have a question for you." I reach down and wipe the tears from his face, and he looks up at me with quivering lips and hopeful eyes. Any reservations I held just a moment before are swept away.

"Would you like to live with me? I would protect you, and train you, and make sure no one would ever hurt you again. Would you like that?"

He looks confused, then a tiny look crosses across his face that I recognize as Hope.

"And I never have to go back to Gabe again? Promise?"

"I swear upon the River Styx that that man shall never harm you again." Thunder rumbles overhead, and it has nothing to do with the storm I recently stopped.

Percy smiles at me, a happy child's grin that warms the heart and calls the same to the face of any who see it. "Yes, I want to come live with you Uncle Aurelius. When can we leave?"

"Immediately. Let us return to your home and gather anything you might want to take with you."

I rise smoothly to my feet and gently lift Percy into my arms, careful of his damaged leg, where he burrows his head into my chest. I grasp the handle of _Glorious _and the broadsword transforms into golden fire, snaking up my arm. It solidifies into three golden chains wrapped around my wrist, a pendant shaped like an eight-pointed star dangling from them. I knew his address from my scan of his memories, and in a flash of golden light we arrive in his living room. The room is filthy, filled with boxes of moldy takeout food and bottles of every liquor known to man.

"Get your things." I tell him softly, placing him down. I follow him to a tiny room tucked into a corner of the house, which has a small bed and a tiny dresser. He pulls out a patched backpack and starts to fill it with clothing, all of it torn in some way. A large dog eared book, titled _Myths of Ancient Greece and Rome_, has a cartoon picture of my brother Zeus on the cover, holding a lightning bolt. I scoff at the representation. The last thing to go into the bag is a worn out picture. The photograph shows the beautiful woman from Percy's memories holding a tiny baby with jet black hair. The photo is so worn out it looks ready to tear at the wrong breath. I gently touch the corner, and the picture instantly returns to the strength of one newly printed. Percy smiles and hugs my waist, and I pull him into my arms once again, where he yawns and curls up against my chest.

I step back out and reenter the living room, ready to teleport us home, when a loud voice interrupts me.

"Who the hell are you?" I look up and see the fat man from Percy's memories, the infamous 'Gabe'. He is even fatter in person, wearing a stained white tank top and large boxer shorts. His face is ruddy with drink, and anger. A bottle is clenched in his fist. As I am about to speak, his smell hits me. It smells like the entire city's worth of garbage and raw sewage have been condensed and soaked in into this man's sweat glands.

"I am taking this child. You are a monster, unfit to even share his air." I state coldly, feeling Percy tense at the sounds of his stepfather's voice. I hold him even tighter, hoping that this foolish mortal knows to back off. He doesn't.

"Oh no, you ain't taking him. That little son of a bitch gets me a check every month, and I'm damned if you're gonna take that." He turns his drunken gaze to Percy's head, his face being tucked into my chest. "So, what's this you little shit? You run away and get some fruity douche to come try and take you away? I don't think so! You belong to **me**, and no way am I gonna lose that money!" He smashes the bottle against a table and advances menacingly, and I hear Percy start to cry.

"Percy, close your eyes and don't open them until I say to." I whisper to him, and he nods and closes his eyes.

My fury fills my body as I slip into my divine form. Seven feet tall, I tower over the short man, suddenly trembling at my feet. Gone are the assembled clothing of the mortal world, leaving my ancient arms and armor. A breastplate of beaten gold, engraved with my deeds covers my chest. A heavy belt of golden chains hold up a swirling golden skirt, ending around my knees. My Greek sandals have golden shin-guards reaching up to where my skirt ends. My hands are encased in golden gauntlets, the mirrored vambraces extending to my elbows. My shoulders are covered by a pair of pauldrons large enough for a man to sit on, carved to resemble licking flames. My left side is mostly covered by a golden cape scraping the floor, tied to the shoulder-guard upon my right. My wings are fully extended, the gilded feathers setting the walls and floor aflame. I know upon my head sits my helm of leaping, golden fire.

_"__You DARE to challenge me, mortal?ME!? I am Aurelius the Golden, eldest son of Kronos the Timeless, God of Energy and Power, champion of ten thousand battles. I am taking this child as my own, and I feel you are not worthy of sharing the same world as him any longer..." _

I reach down with one gold encased finger and poke him in the middle of his forehead. He tenses, and his mouth opens in a silent scream. His body is overrun by golden fire as his very soul is burnt away. I haven't done this in eons, but this is a man I feel deserves it. My control over all forms of energy extends to souls as well; so I simply destroyed it. No judgment, no Underworld, no nothing. He is simply gone.

While still in my divine form, I turn my attention to the small child in my now huge arms. In a much softer voice, I intone the ancient rites.

_"__I, Lord Aurelius, God of Power and Energy, Golden son of Kronos the Timeless, Precursor of Olympus, Keeper of Power, Balance of the Gods, do make an oath to the Fates. On this day I take into my home Perseus Jackson, abandoned son of Poseidon. If the child is willing to abandon all ties to his father, he shall become as a son to me. His power shall be my power, his strength shall be my strength. I shall protect and care for him, and make him my heir. This I shall do, upon my soul, so I swear upon the River Styx."_

I made this vow in all solemness, and heard the greatest boom of thunder fill my ears as I have ever heard. One of two things will happen now. If Percy truly wants to be my son, he shall be so, and Poseidon will have no claim over him. If there is any doubts or reservations, I will no longer be able to touch him, and Poseidon will instantly appear. If he does, I'm going to be having words with him...

After a moment, I return to my mortal disguise, and Percy is still in my arms.

"Um... Uncle Aurelius? Can I... can I open my eyes now?" His voice is still so small and scratchy.

"Of course, Percy." When he opens his eyes and looks at me, I can not stifle my gasp. His eyes, previously a pure sea-green throughout, have changed. Now, like the sun's corona, a circle of swirling golden flames surround his pupils, taking up maybe a third of his iris. The gold is a mixture of tints and shades, making it look like it's moving. The edge where the colors meet are jagged and uneven, but that only serves to add to the semblance of flames. I laugh with joy and swirl him around as the child -no, as_ my son_- joins in with my laughs of joy.

"Come, Percy. Let us go home." With one final flash of light, I take Percy to start his new life.

* * *

**(Two Months Later)**

**Percy's POV**

_"__Stupid brat!" Smack! _

"Percy?"

_"__Worthless piece of filth!" Smack, smack! _

"Percy!"

"_Stop crying you little shit!" Smack, __**crunch**__! "Aww, break your leg again? Serves you right!"_

"Percy, wake up!"

"_Now, let's see if you can get this right this time; what happened to your bitch of a mother?"_

"Perseus Jackson, WAKE UP!"

I awaken from my nightmare as something soft slams into me, knocking me to the floor. I am still confused and hazy, and start to cry out of fear.

"Hey, hey, no tears, okay little brother?"

I recognize that voice. I open my eyes to peer into a set of deep emerald green eyes, filled with love and worry.

"Ilex, it's you."

As my eyes settle I finally recognize my adoptive sister. Her emerald eyes, her nut brown skin, her small upturned nose, her small lips curled in worry, her black hair cut into a pixie cut atop her heart shaped face, and the ever present sprigs of holly set in her hair.

Ilex is a dryad, whose spirit inhabits a holly tree that grows in my father's palace. He took her in after her parents were killed and her tree uprooted by mortals, and planted it on the grounds. He treats her as a daughter, and she treats me like a little brother. She's only a year older than me, but she's much more 'mature', as she puts it, and acts like I'm such a small child that she needs to look out for me. But I still love her, overprotective sister and all.

"Of course it's me, silly. You were having another nightmare; I heard it from my room." Ilex's room was across the hall. If she could hear me, it must have been a really loud one. I look to the ground in embarrassment, my cheeks reddening.

"Sorry..." She pulls me into a tight hug.

"It's not your fault. Remember that. He's gone now, and he can never hurt you again. Come on, father wanted to see you. If you're up for it?" I nod, and pull myself to my feet, offering Ilex my hand. Two months in my father's care had changed a lot. For one, he had healed my many wounds to the best of his abilities. My leg didn't stick out to the side as much, though I still couldn't really use my knee. My hand was a lost cause, since so many of the tendons had been snapped. He gave me a magical golden ring I wore on my middle finger; thinking about it caused it to encase my hand in a golden glove, letting me control it completely, though the enhanced strength that came with it made it impractical to always wear. My nose had been straightened out as best as he could, though it was still pretty crooked. Most of my scars were gone, but the really bad ones remained. I was so thankful for all he did, but he always seemed sad he couldn't do more.

Second, since I came here I had been given real food, enough to keep me healthy. I had grown two inches, and I couldn't see my ribs anymore. Exercise kept me in good shape, and gave me something to do as my wounds healed.

The biggest change probably came from my father's influence. He was such a kind, chivalrous god, it rubbed off on me. I was always kind and polite to anyone who I spoke to, regardless of who they were.

Ilex took my hand and got to her feet, then pulled me out of my room and towards father. Even after eight weeks the palace still took my breath away. Pale golden marble pillars held up ceilings of gold. The walls were a deeply colored hardwood, carved with scenes of nature and animals. The floors were white marble streaked with veins of gold, polished to a mirror sheen. Many rooms filled the palace, each devoted to an interest of my father. There was a library I'm sure even Lady Athena would be jealous of. A music room, filled with every instrument in human -or godly- history. A gallery of paintings and sculptures from every culture and every era. Rooms filled with fountains, rooms filled with wind chimes, rooms filled with only candles floating in seas of darkness. Anything that peaked my father's interest got a room in his palace.

Ilex led me to the observatory, my favorite room in the palace. She shouldered open the fifteen foot tall doors, and I followed after. The room was a perfect circle, surrounded by twelve pillars, each carved with a symbol of zodiac. The ceiling, unlike the rest of the palace, was black marble. Currently displayed were a set of galaxies in high detail. Around the edge of the rooms were star charts linked to the magical ceiling; touching part of the sky on the charts would cause it to appear in detail above. In the center of the room was my father, currently studying the two galaxies circling each other hungrily.

"Hello Percy, Ilex. I am glad you could come." He didn't look down from the night sky, waving his hand to summon three chairs. The chairs he summoned for Ilex and me were plush and soft, while his own was a simple wooden chair. They were seated around an oval table, inlaid with gold in my father's symbol: an eight-pointed star. I pulled Ilex's chair out for her, and tucked it in after she was seated. Quietly I switched my father's chair with mine, and sat on the wooden seat.

Aurelius finally turned to us and sat down, then a look of confusion passed over his face, before he looked to me.

"Very humorous, Percy. Why do you always do that?"

"You have shown me more kindness than I ever expected to receive in life. I dislike how poorly you treat yourself by comparison." Two months with him had also increased my grammar beyond most seven year-olds. My father just chuckled, then snapped his fingers so we were all sitting in plush chairs.

"Percy, I have a choice for you that will decide your future."

"What is it father?" Ilex looked worried, but didn't say anything.

"This is the fact of the matter, Percy: With Poseidon as your sire, and my own power in your veins, you are a very powerful demigod. You have two choices before you, my son."

"Poseidon is no father to him." Ilex hissed. After hearing how her 'little brother' had been treated due to Poseidon's neglect, she had developed a hatred for the Sea God.

"I agree with Ilex," I said softly; my voice had never really recovered. "You are my father, not him."

"As much as it warms my heart to hear that, the fact remains that he sired you. His power is still in your blood, making you a child of the Big Three of Olympus. Technically, you are not supposed to exist. I explained to you the oath they swore, remember?" I did indeed remember. That my sire broke an unbreakable pact, only to abandon me and my mother as unwanted mistakes, only increased my hatred of the god.

"Yes, I remember."

"So your influence has a direct effect on the world. I give you two choices, and I will leave them up to you. Firstly, you may stay here in my palace forever. I can grant you eternal life, just shy of immortality, and we can spend our days in peace, as a family."

The offer was very kind. I wanted something just like that for as long as I can remember, and to have it so close was tempting. But then I would be abandoning the world to the monsters, which my father told me hunt all demigods.

"What is the second choice, father?"

He smiled at me. "The second choice is for me to train you, to shape you into the greatest hero to ever live, so that you will be able to help all you come across, and change the world. What do you choose?"

I was conflicted. On the one hand, here was a chance to live in peace, forever, with a family who loved me more than anything. On the other hand, here was an opportunity to make a difference, a chance to save others who were like me, possibly abandoned by the gods, left alone in the world to fend for themselves. I knew my father would support any choice I made, but to me, there was really only one path for me to take.

I looked my father straight in the eyes. "I wish to become the greatest hero to ever live."

He smiled, and I knew he was proud beyond words.

* * *

**A/N: So here's the prologue (and the longest single chapter I've ever written.) I'm going to point out, right now, this is not a Chaos story. He won't be recruited by Aethyr, he won't become a primordial assassin, it's pretty much just an AU story involving the characters from PJatO. I intend to include some pairings a few chapters on, but haven't decided on any final pairings. So please, leave a review, and I hope you enjoyed the story.**


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N: First and foremost; I could not decide how to break up this chapter, since it all kind of ties together. So you lucky people get a really long chapter. Enjoy it; it won't be a super common thing. Second, I am just overjoyed and overwhelmed by the interest in this story in such a short amount of time. You know, it's the thought that people actually enjoy what I'm writing that makes it all worth it. So, taking a few liberties with the fact that this is an Alternate Universe story, here are two rather important changes I've decided are necessary for the plot I have in mind:**

**The prophecy now states "****_a child of the elder gods shall reach _****eight****_een against all odds_****"****, as opposed to ****_six_****teen like in the canon. This is to allow me more time to add in stuff I like, as well as make a few later developments slightly less... awkward.**

**I know that Otus and Ephialtes appear as two of the giants in the HoO series, but I'm not going to be including that storyline into this one. At all. So I'm going to be using them in their original Classical Myth forms, as twin sons of Poseidon and Iphimedia. This is important to remember!**

**I like to add in some classical mythology when the chance arises, so when the books are a little vague I may add in details from my favorite variations of those myths. Alright, that's about it for the author's note, so read the disclaimer and enjoy the story!**

**DISCLAIMER: Percy Jackson and all related characters belong to Rick Riordan. Aurelius, Ilex, and the Palace of Light belong to me. As do all OOCness.**

**A/N 2: Sorry, one final thing. The Khopesh is a type of ancient Egyptian sword. It has a short, straight blade before curving into a "C" shape on top of the straight part. Google an image of it if my description is lacking; they are really cool looking swords.**

* * *

**Chapter One: Let the Training Begin!**

**Percy's POV**

I duck to my right as I barely avoid being beheaded by a strike from the golden warrior in front of me. A quick spin to my left makes his thrust pass by my ribs harmlessly. I tighten my grip on the handle of my golden khopesh. I know it's a little odd for a Greek God to give me an Egyptian sword, but my father loved ancient Egypt; something about all the golden sand and heat that was good to nap in, or something. Another chop, but this time my opponent overexerts himself; leaving an opening. I smile and take advantage of it.

I duck under his outstretched arm and spin along it, dodging his grasping hand. I smack the outer curve of my sword against his wrist, hearing bone shatter and flesh tear as his Greek longsword falls to the ground, his hand still wrapped around the handle. Before he can recover I am behind him, the sharp inner edge of the curve of my sword against his throat. I pull the edge swiftly, and he collapses to the ground in a puff of golden dust, leaving behind nothing but the sword and his hand.

"Woohoo! Way to go Percy!" I hear a cheering from behind me, and turn to smile at my sister.

Ilex is sitting in the stands of the Arena, next to our father. Scattered throughout the rest of the stands are a mixture of other golden warriors my father has conjured, and a random assortment of nymphs. For reasons I can not fathom, there always appear to be a large number of nymphs around the palace. Dryads, nymphs of the plants and trees, Nereids, nymphs of the water, Aurai, winged nymphs of the breeze, Auloniad, nymphs of the mountains, all forms of the nymph family frequented our halls. They always seem drawn to my father, wanting to help with everyday tasks as much as they can. He always thanks them for their concern, but politely refuses any help; he is still a gentleman, after all. The oddest part seems to be that the nymphs are resigned to his disinterest, but still respect and adore him. If it was a romantic thing I could understand that; my father is very handsome, with angled, fair features. The word 'elven' comes to mind. But they also seem to exude an air of sadness around him, and none of them flirt with him. I keep forgetting to ask him why they act as they do.

I am drawn from my wandering mind by the sound of my father's applause. He is clapping loudly, a bright smile on his face.

"Well done, Percy! That is a new record, I think. Truly you have a mastery with that blade."

I duck my head in embarrassment at my father's praise, instead staring at my sword. For a moment I can see the Greek letters carved along the straight part of the blade spell out the word _Honor_.

"It was nothing, father. Your training is to thank more than anything." And really, it is.

For the past three years, ever since I chose to become a hero, my life has been a constant whirlwind of training. Every day I practice in the Arena underneath the palace, learning the skills of the sword, the shield, the spear, and the bow. I am skilled, but not remarkably so, in all of them. We also train my body, lifting weights to increase my strength; running to increase my stamina and endurance; yoga, of all things, to increase my flexibility and agility. As my father says, _'strength and power are useless if you can not reach your opponent'_. But my training goes beyond the physical. At night, my father and I spend hours in the library, training my mind. I learned to read and write which, to my eternal shame, I didn't know how to do before while living with Gabe. Once I had that down, my father started all over again in other languages. Ancient Greek I could do, no problem. But Latin, French, Spanish, all these I needed to learn myself. Luckily Aurelius is a kind, patient teacher. He even managed to wipe out my dyslexia, something apparently all demigods have, so I could learn better. Math, History, Science, all of these I absorbed like a sponge. I suppose it would seem kind of odd to an outsider, seeing a ten-year old boy loving to learn. But my father made it so incredible; he was the greatest teacher I could ever want. And when others could teach better, he would admit it. An old satyr, apparently over two thousand years old, would teach me the history my father hadn't been around for. He was nice enough, but always smelled like the tires he chewed. To teach botany, I had a very kind dryad tutor, who could grow the plants we were studying in her hands.

The two most important lessons, however, he always taught himself. The first were the lessons on the Gods. He taught me about every god. And I mean _every_ god. If there is a backed up river in the worst county of any country in the world, I know its god's name, birthday and customs. But he paid extra attention to the Olympians, who I would most likely be more involved with than lesser gods. Though he always made sure to show the lesser gods the proper respect they deserved.

The second set of lessons he found most important were manners, and chivalry. He always kept them close to his heart, so that he never forgot their importance. I don't know why he found them so important, but if he thought they were, so did I. I mastered the art of conversation, respectful etiquette, how to speak to others, and all that jazz.

So here I am, possibly the oddest ten-year old one could find; well trained in the art of combat and most likely the most physically fit child there is, as intelligent as a college student, and with the manners of a Victorian gentleman. Odd combination, but it worked.

My father's voice one again brings me back to the present.

"All the training in the world is useless if the pupil is not skilled enough to learn from it, Percy. But I thank you nonetheless, my son. But that does raise an issue we must address, and soon."

"What's wrong, father? Have I done something wrong in my training?"

He chuckles softly. "No. Quite the opposite, in fact. You have moved past what I am able to teach you. My own skills with the blade are quite negligible, you surpassed them months ago, and I have imparted to you all the wisdom I have accrued over the centuries. I... I could not be any prouder of you, Percy." I can see his golden eyes watering a little, even from back here.

I stare at my shoes for a moment, my face burning red, before I meet his eyes again. "Thanks, dad." I walk towards the pair of them, ready to leave the Arena for the day. I climb over the wall, and am immediately enveloped in a large hug by my father. Hugging Aurelius is like hugging the sun's light on a cozy spring day. It is warm, and comforting, and makes you feel so alive and loved it makes your heart ache from the sheer joy of it.

He sets me down, and tells me to meet him in the entry hall after I am cleaned up. As I walk to my room, Ilex follows behind me.

"You were amazing today! I mean, that last guy, he was all 'Aagh, I'm gonna get you', and you were all 'Ha ha! Now I'm behind you, and I'm going to slit your throat!' and you did, and it was awesome!"

I can only chuckle at her ramblings; my sister is highly excitable.

I reach my room with Ilex still going on about the fights today, and she is still talking once I reach my bathroom. She follows me in, and I turn to face her incredulously.

"Um, Ilex?" I ask, rubbing the back of my neck in embarrassment.

"Yeah? What is it?"

"Unless you think you're going to be joining me, please get out."

She suddenly seems to notice that she has followed me into the bathroom. She blushes red enough to show even with her dark complexion, and punches me in the arm.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"You could have said something before!" She storms out of my bathroom, muttering something about 'boys' under her breath. I shake my head, and peel off my golden armor. The armor looks just like what any Grecian soldier would have worn in the days of heroes, only made of golden fire, courtesy of my father. I jump into the shower, and it immediately turns on to my favorite water temperature:

Mediterranean.

Even though I have forsaken Poseidon as my father, I still have all those weird powers his children have. I can control water, breathe it, and my wounds are healed whenever I enter it. I can speak to fish, all sea creatures actually, and horses. I also seem to have inherited his powers over storms and earthquakes. I caused one that was 5.4 on the Richter scale after a rude spirit insulted Ilex last year.

The arrogant bastard called her a 'serving girl'.

As such, I love the feel of the water on my skin. It's so invigorating, and refreshing. As it washes over my skin, I can't help but look at some of the many scars Aurelius was unable to heal. If I had known about my healing power beforehand, would they have even occurred? I shake my head from the thoughts of my past and finish with the shower. Knowing my father is waiting, I will myself dry and dress quickly.

A pair of blue jeans, held up by a golden leather belt. A white T-shirt goes over my head, and is covered by a hoodie the color of bronze. On the back is the image of a pair of gold-feathered wings, in honor of my father's. A pair of sneakers and all that's left is my weapons.

I pick up the golden vambrace from my night stand and strap it to my left arm. I traded up to this after my golden ring got caught in a skeleton warrior's ribcage. The arm-guard can, at a thought, encase my mangled hand and entire left forearm in a golden gauntlet, granting me complete control over its movements. It also can let forth a golden shield, mirrored and indestructible.

I stare at my khopesh, _Honor_, for a moment. The handle is simple, large enough for my hand to wrap around with about an inch of pommel and an inch before the knuckle guard starts. The grip is made of a dark sandalwood, wrapped in bronze wire, creating a diamond effect of brown and gold. The pommel is wide and flat on the bottom, but engraved with my father's crest: the eight-pointed star. The blade itself is rather short, only about two feet long. About a third of it is the straight part attached to the handle, but then it curves out before curving back in, making it look like an elongated letter C on a stick. The entire blade, inside and out, is razor sharp and will never dull nor break. The sword is made of the same golden fire made solid as all my father's gifts. I remember asking my father about its name, and he told me, _'A warrior must be strong, skilled, and lethal to survive. But he must always remember to fight... with Honor'_. I smile at the memory, and will the blade to change. _Honor_ dissolves into golden fire before coiling up my arm, turning into a heavy golden chain bracelet around my right wrist.

Ready, I leave my room and search for my father. He is standing in the main hall in front of the doors, massive gates made of solid gold, engraved with a simple message in every language on earth:

**Stop, before entering the Palace of Light, and think on your heart.**

**If you seek conquest and bloodshed, only yours shall be found.**

**But seek sanctuary and peace, and you shall know my generosity.**

Ilex thought it was kind of creepy, but I liked it. It was my father boiled down to a nutshell; he was a kind, caring man, until others forced him to be otherwise. Then he was like hellish death incarnate.

"I'm ready to go, father. Where are we headed?"

Aurelius smiled down at me. He was in his divine form, the full one this time, so he was fifteen feet tall. His wings shone in the sunlight drifting in from the hidden skylights, and his flaming golden armor shifted with every movement of his.

"We are going to find you some new teachers, Percy. As long as you do not let all your knowledge slip from your mind like water, I believe that part of your instruction is over. We now go to find you those who may better instruct you in the arts of war."

I was a little excited by the prospect of being done with all my schooling, I must admit.

"Who will train me?"

"I am thinking a few teachers will be good for you. Perhaps... Achilles, Odysseus, Theseus, Perseus, Orion, Bellerophontes... do any of these sound like worthy teachers to you?"

My jaw hit the floor halfway through the list. Those were some of the greatest, if not _the_ greatest heroes of all time. But there was one tiny problem...

"Um, father, all of them are dead. They have been for millennia."

"I know that. I was present for the deaths of Achilles and Perseus. But their spirits may still be able to help us. We are off to my brother's domain, to speak with the souls of long dead heroes."

"You mean, we are going...?" My father picks me up and holds me quite easily in his giant arms.

"Yes, we are visiting my brother Hades in the Underworld." In a flash of light, we disappear.

* * *

At first, I think we made some sort of mistake in our travel. For a minute I am sure we have arrived in an airport in Siberia. The darkness isn't very thick for the Underworld, and the crowds of the recently deceased look more like they're waiting for a bus than their final judgment. A large arch stands tall over all the incoming souls, and proclaims in large letters: WELCOME TO EREBUS.

"Not very inviting." I murmur to myself. But my father hears me, and laughs loudly. We make our way past the lines of souls, and simply step through a pathway marked EZ-Death. We keep moving forward until a loud roar fills my ears. I look up into the eyes of the largest dog I have ever seen:

Cerberus.

He is huge, at least thirty feet tall, dwarfing even my father. The three headed rottweiler growls at us, strands of thick, slobbery drool running from his chops. My father waves his hand, and three steaks the size of car doors appear before the dog.

"I know my brother does not feed you well, my friend, even with all the services you provide. So please, take these with my thanks for your deeds."

I swear Cerberus smiles at my father's speech before digging into the meat. As we continue on our way, I have to ask.

"Can Cerberus understand us?"

"Of course. He once was capable of speech as well, though eons below ground with no one to talk to have withered away his vocal cords. Hades tricked him into his service, promising him the soul of a young girl he befriended who was slain by her father. Cerberus, as a puppy, had sworn to defend the girl, but failed. He has been waiting for her soul for over three thousand years now..."

I look over my father's shoulder at the great hellhound, and a feeling of deep sorrow fills my heart for the poor creature. But before I can think about it any more, we are stopped before a pair of giant doors. The doors are creepy; they depict acts of war and atrocities committed by humans upon humans. They are set into a wall surrounding a large palace, made of black marble and obsidian. It is beautiful, but in a dark and twisted way. A large creature, looking like a cross between a bat and a woman, with a healthy dose of demon kicked in, has swooped down in front of us. Her voice sounds like nails on a chalkboard.

"Who dares approach the palace of Lord Hades? State your names before I throw you into Tartarus!"

My father just tightens his hold on me, before giving the weird woman a glare that could scare off Medusa herself.

"Tell Lord Hades his elder brother wishes to speak with him. And if you touch a hair on my son's head I will turn you into a throw pillow."

The creature can tell my father isn't joking, or incapable of following through on his threat. She takes off over the wall and leaves us before the grisly doors. Soon, the doors open and we enter Hades' hall.

The interior of the palace is beautiful, but in a different way from my father's Palace of Light; the walls, floors, columns and ceiling are all shades of black and gray. The floors have veins of raw metals running through them, and every column has at least one large chunk of raw gemstone set into it. The ceiling is most impressive; it has stars, properly spaced ans sized, that mimic the night sky perfectly. I can also see his wife Persephone's touches here and there in the form of orchids, roses and lilacs in vases set between pillars.

At the end of the hall are two thrones, seated against the back wall. The smaller throne is unoccupied, and looks like it is made out of woven branches and vines, and is covered in closed flower buds. The throne that _is_ occupied is made out of black marble, and inset with golden symbols of death and destruction, along with a few choice gemstones. The man seated in the throne is none other than Hades, Lord of the Underworld.

He is tall, and extremely gaunt. His skin is albino pale, but his hair is pitch black. He has sharp, angled features some might consider handsome, but others cruel. He has a thin beard, and his eyes... his eyes are black as a moonless midnight, and filled with the gleam of a genius- or the mad. His robes are almost as black as his eyes, but seem to have souls woven into them, giving them a shimmery, liquid appearance. The look on his face is an equal mixture of annoyance and surprise.

"It seems Alecto spoke the truth; you have indeed come to visit me, Aurelius. It has been a very long time... brother." The God of the Dead's voice is smooth and slick, a voice that madmen must hear in their mind before committing unspeakable acts. "Though an interesting turn of events, one must ask of themselves why you, after an absence of over two thousand years, finally decide to pay your eldest sibling a visit out of the blue?"

"Technically, Hestia is older than you, Hades. She just prefers to take the form of an eight-year old; though you are my eldest brother. I have come for two reasons. The first is for introductions; Hades, meet your nephew, Perseus." My father sets me down on the cold floor, and I lower myself into an honorable bow.

"Lord Hades, it is an honor to meet with such a great god as yourself."

Hades snorts at my display. "He has your manners alright, Aurelius. Though as far as I recall, you swore to never sire a child after all that unpleasantness, didn't you?" What 'unpleasantness' does Hades mean? I'll have to ask my father later.

"He is my adoptive son, though he is as close as to my flesh and blood as possible."

"Well, I suppose he seems well mannered enough... What is your second purpose?"

"Perseus needs teachers, and I was hoping to convince you to lend me the souls of a few heroes. It would mean a great deal to me, and even more so to your nephew."

Hades leaps to his feet, anger burning in his onyx eyes. "Of course you need _my_ help. The only time anyone ever comes into my realm is when they need me. And after I'm done, what do I ever get? A quick thanks and a one-way flash back to this abysmal hellhole! I can't leave for very long without the entire place erupting into chaos, and the rest of Olympus uses it to keep me down here. So why, pray tell, should I help you now?"

"Because," my father starts slowly. "this is a good chance to prove how selfless you truly are. I remember a bright eyed young god who would do anything to help those who needed it, and was caring enough to cause a thousand nymphs to cry in loss when you took this throne. Where is that god? Where is my little brother Hades?"

"Buried beneath thousands of years of other people's footprints, because he was the gods' doormat." Hades growled at my father. But his words have struck a chord; I can see it in his eyes.

"Fine. But let me ask the spirits who I have in mind their thoughts on the issue, and give you some time to think on it. Please? For me?"

Hades sinks back into his chair, mulling it over. "Fine. You may ask the ghosts you want if they would be willing to train the brat. But don't expect me to change my mind; I rarely do."

"But you always do what is right in the end. Thank you brother." As my father starts to glow, he adds, almost as an afterthought, "You'll have to watch Percy while I'm gone. Thank you!" With a laugh at Hades' sputtered outrage he disappears.

Hades stares at the spot where my father was just standing, then turns his gaze to me. I meet his gaze, but make sure not to stare. After a few minutes we are both still staring at each other, without talking. My legs are starting to cramp, but I make no motion to sit down. It would be rude. Finally, Hades speaks.

"Aren't you going to demand my aid, and beg me to help you train to become a great hero?"

"No, Lord Hades. This is your domain, and I but a humble guest. I would not dream of making any demands while here."

He seems impressed by my answer. "Why haven't you sat down yet? By now most of my visitors have collapsed to the ground. The air in here drains the endurance of demigods, you know."

That explains why my legs feel like gelatin. "It is in poor taste to sit when your host has not yet given you permission to, or offered a chair to sit in."

Hades shakes his head, but snaps his bony fingers. The shadows under me swirl and form a black stool. "You may as well sit down. Don't want the Golden Boy Scout to find you collapsed on the ground when he gets back."

"Thank you, Lord Hades." I gratefully settle onto the stool, pleasantly surprised to find the top covered in black velvet.

Hades leans back into his throne, steepling his fingers over his lap. "So tell me, boy. What has my brother told you about me? How I am the monstrous God of the Dead, ready to rip the soul from your body? The one who denies mothers from seeing their children's souls? The cause of all death in the world, ready to wage war on my family at any minute?" He sounds bitter, and resigned at the description.

"Not at all, Lord Hades. My father speaks of you with nothing but awe and respect."

This seems to take him by surprise. "Really?"

"Of course. He admires your strength, the way you maintain your humanity even when surrounded by nothing but darkness century after century. He believes that you were given a raw deal, and managed to make the best of a bad situation, turning what could have been a virtual death sentence into one of the most important factors of life. You keep the balance in humanity, making sure they know what awaits them if they cause destruction upon their brothers. He once said that he respects you the most out of all his siblings. And he said that he was beyond proud at how you have lived your life."

Hades looks speechless, and I'm not surprised. From what I can gather, Hades has never been complimented before. "Aurelius... said all that? Truly?"

"Yes, my Lord. He loves you; you're his brother, and he is so proud of you."

"And you, bo- Perseus, what do you think of me?"

"I feel I must agree with my father. You are one of the strongest people, gods or otherwise, I have ever heard of. As the eldest son of Kronos, it was your rightful place to inherit his throne. But you let your brother take the throne to avoid conflict. And when you were tricked into taking the Underworld as your home, robbing you of your place on Olympus, you understood how important this position was to the world. Instead of plotting revenge, you took this job seriously, and have been doing it the best you can since the dawn of time. In every story I have heard of you, you are a fair, wise god, who values honesty and keeps promises, even when they are not to your advantage, because that is what is right. You are truly a god worthy of respect, and I feel lucky to be able to call you, even distantly, family."

If Hades seemed speechless from my description of how my father felt, he looks almost on the verge of tears at my feelings on the matter. He stands up suddenly, and smiles. The smile wipes the gaunt, empty look from his face. He looks kind, and caring. I can suddenly see the resemblance to my father.

"Perseus, would you care for a tour of the Underworld? I do not believe I have ever actually given one before."

"I would like that, Lord Hades." He strides forward, and I stand to join him.

"Please, we are family. You may call me Uncle, if you like."

I smile widely, and take his hand when he offers it to me. It is surprisingly warm, and soft.

"Okay Uncle Hades. Um, you can call me Percy if you want."

Hades smiles down at me. "Alright... Percy. Let us explore the wonders my domain holds."

* * *

**Aurelius' POV**

That went far better than I could even have dreamed. Every hero I asked agreed to help train Percy. The original Perseus seemed eager to meet someone who bore his name once again. Hopefully Hades will have changed his mind by the time I get back; with every hero agreeing to help, I can not wait to start the training. And maybe some time with the boy had changed his views on the matter. That was why I left them alone together, after all.

Flashing back to the throne room, I am surprised that no one is here. There are only the two thrones against the wall, and a black stool facing Hades' throne.

"Hello? Percy? Brother?" I wander through the hall, approaching the entrance once more. My stomach is uneasy. Hades _was_ in a rather sour mood when I left. He couldn't have... _done_ something to Percy? Could he?

As I exit the palace and start to walk through Persephone's Garden, brushing my fingers against the dark burgundy pomegranates, I hear two sounds that freeze the ichor in my veins:

Hades' booming laughter... and Percy screaming.

I run towards the sounds, forming _Glorious_ in my grasp as I go. I am going to murder my brother, tear his essence to shreds, scatter them into every septic tank in the world, then grind them into dust to fill an hourglass that will never sit still ever again.

I round the bulk of the palace to see Hades, laughing up to a Fury, who has something dark attached to it. Hades calls up to the Fury, "Not so high! I can't see you!" Just as I am about to cleave my brother's head from his neck, the Fury dips low enough so that I can plainly see... she is giving Percy a piggy-back ride.

"Not so high, Megaera. I want to make sure Percy stays safe!"

I am not ashamed to admit it- I am completely lost here. I return my sword to its chain form around my wrist.

"Hades? What, uh, what is going on?"

Hades spins around, and smiles at me, which only confuses me more. Hades hasn't smiled since his last children were born, almost a century ago. "I was giving Percy a tour, and had the wonderful idea to give him an aerial view of my realm."

"Percy? You called him 'the boy' not a half hour ago."

Hades scoffs. "He asked me to call him Percy. If that makes him happier, then that is what I will call him."

This alone tells me Percy must have really hit it off with my brother. He is kind of weird when it comes to his name. He only lets people close to him call him Percy, since it was what his mother called him. In fact, only Ilex and I can call him that without him correcting us. And now, it appears he has offered Hades the same closeness, and considers him his family. I am overjoyed. The Fury lands, and Percy jumps off her back.

"Thank you for the ride, Ms. Megaera." The Fury smirks and bows before flapping her leathery wings and taking off. Percy runs forward and hugs Hades' legs. "That was really fun, Uncle Hades! I could see all over the Underworld, from the Isles of the Blessed all the way to Tartarus!"

I chuckle. "Uncle Hades?"

My brother ignores me as he crouches down to hug Percy. "I'm glad you had fun, Percy. You know, I think you might be the first demigod I've ever remotely liked. And that you are my nephew is a true blessing. I have a gift for you, if you'll accept it." Hades holds out his hands and a circlet of black metal forms between them. The metal absorbs the light in the area, and is giving off a black fog, obscuring any details on the object. "This coronet is very special. It is the symbol of office of one of the few Titles I have any right to offer. So far, no hero has ever impressed upon me enough to warrant this gift. But in this one day, I can tell that you have great things ahead of you, my boy. So I offer to you the title of King of Ghosts and Spirits, the highest honor that I can give. Will you accept?"

I am beyond shocked. Never have I seen Hades even mention this gift to any mortal, even his own children. He must truly care about Percy. Even I am not entirely sure as to what the title entails.

"I would be honored to accept such a wonderful gift. But... I haven't done anything to deserve it. Isn't there someone more deserving?"

Hades chuckles. "So humble... I have seen every hero that has ever lived pass beyond my gates, Percy. I know what makes them great. And you have that greatness within, tenfold. You may not have done anything to deserve this gift _yet_, but I know you will."

Percy stares at his shoes for a moment, before raising his head, smiling. "Alright then, Uncle. I would be honored." Hades rises, and places the coronet onto Percy's head, where it shrinks to fit just above his ears. The metal gives off one last plume of dark smoke, before the fog turns to a small flickering black flame, completely obscuring the metal entirely. "The crown burns with your life force, and the title is accepted. All hail Perseus, King of Ghosts and Spirits! Always shall the shadows aid you, and never need you fear the shades of the dead; they will follow your orders without reservation."

Percy smiles and hugs my brother once again.

"Congratulations, Percy. Never have I seen my brother impart such an honor on any mortal before. And I have even more good news; every hero I asked has agreed to train you! Now, if only my brother Hades would change his mind...?"

Percy stares up at Hades with puppy-dog eyes. Hades sighs, but smiles and ruffles my son's hair.

"I agree to your request. Percy must be trained, by the greatest teachers there are. On **one** condition:" I hold my breath in anticipation. Hades looks sternly at me, then grins. "Percy must come and visit me at least once a month. I want to get to know my nephew."

"That seems more than fair, wouldn't you agree Percy?"

"Yay! I get to visit every month. I can't wait to come back, Uncle!"

"Well, you could always have a little 'accident' and stay forever..."

"HADES!" I roar, shocked that he would even suggest such a thing.

"I kid, I kid. You have no sense of humor, brother. Make sure to visit soon, alright?"

I gather Percy up into my arms, and have to restrain a hiss as I touch his new crown; it is freezing. "Of course. Farewell, brother! You are in my debt."

"Goodbye, Uncle Hades! I'll visit soon, I promise!"

Hades waves goodbye as I start to glow, ready to teleport, allowing my aura to reach the heroes I intend to take with me. "Goodbye, Percy."

In a golden flash of light, I return Percy and myself home, ready to start his training anew.

* * *

**Percy's POV**

"Faster, Perseus! You must move faster!"

"I'm trying, Master Achilles!"

I duck under a lightning fast spear thrust, and dance on the balls of my feet, avoiding every blow that come my way. Achilles is merciless; he knows where I'm going to be before I do, it seems, and is ready with his spear. The style of fighting my father taught me, the swirling, twisting motions, almost like dancing, are good for this type of battle. I simply avoid the spear thrusts in a twirl of my feet, slapping them with my own spear to divert their path when I know I can't avoid them. Unfortunately, Achilles is also fighting in a very motion-oriented style. He leaps and jumps, never in the same place, always moving. I can't help but wonder how anyone managed to get him in the heel when he never stops _moving_. A lucky opening, and I press my advantage before he closes it. I dash into his space, where his longer spear is too unwieldy to be useful, and slam the flat of my shorter spear's head into his spear. It falls to the ground with a clatter, and I spin to my right, avoiding the dagger I know he drew and attempted to stab into my back, before coming to a rest, panting, with the edge of my spear poking right into his neck.

"Do you yield, Master?"

Achilles grins and drops his dagger. "I yield, Lord Perseus. You have finally beaten me."

"I am no Lord, my friend. We are equals here, in the field of battle."

"Or, in this case, the field of 'your father's fancy Arena for mock battle'. But I get your point. And I thank you."

I step back from the ancient warrior, and bow. He mirrors my action, his transparent body glowing faintly in the bright lighting. "What a marvelous week, isn't it Perseus? You finally defeat me, yesterday you made a battle plan that worked better than Theseus', and managed to wrestle Bellerophontes into submission. You are very close to taking your place as the greatest of all heroes."

"I thank you, Master Achilles. But I believe the last two years of incredibly strict training might have had something to do with it." But I still grin at the compliment. I have bested several of the most powerful, most famous of all heroes! I am one step closer to obtaining my goals.

"Well, that goes without saying, obviously." The dead warrior says with a smirk. "Now, don't you have somewhere to be? I believe you are late for sword practice with your namesake."

"Oh, gods! I have to go, thank you Achilles!" I drop my spear and run out of the Arena as quickly as I can, leaving a laughing Achilles in my wake. I stumble on my crippled leg on the way. In battle, I never misstep, but when I run otherwise I always trip at least once. In record time I manage to make my way to the swordsman's quarters. Perseus doesn't like training in the Arena; he prefers to fight in the smaller training grounds attached to his room. I find him there, sword fighting with a golden warrior, completely decimating the conjuration. The original Perseus is tall, and has a very long reach, making him a natural swordsman. He is not very muscular, which surprised me, but being incredibly fast makes up for it. With a final flourish, Perseus decapitates the summoned warrior, who collapses into dust at his feet. The legendary son of Zeus turns to look at me.

"You're late, Perseus."

I bow quickly, reigning in my heavy breathing from the run over here. "I apologize, Master Perseus. I was training with Master Achilles, and lost track of time." I break into a grin. "But I finally managed to beat him, though."

The ancient hero lets out a loud belly laugh. "Congratulations, young hero. You seem to be besting all of us at our own game. But you have yet to beat _me_. So come; let the battle begin." He raises a shining silver sword. I will my khopesh to form in my hand, and slide my feet into the relaxed pose of a master swordsman.

Without a word, Perseus strikes. His style is composed mainly of slashes and stabs, where mine is a mix of swings and chops. They counterpoint each other nicely. Neither of us has a shield; Perseus fought many battles without one, and claims only a warrior who can't avoid attacks needs one. I dodge the first strike, but it was a feint, and he turns the momentum into a spin and brings his sword down hard into my ribs, bruising them through my armor. Disoriented, I manage a lucky block, catching his sword in the curve of my own. I knock his sword away and manage a chop to his shoulder, which he easily steps out from, leaving a long scratch along his arm. Unbalanced from the attack, I cannot block the flat of his blade slapping my head, leaving my ears ringing. I don't go down, instead taking the chance to spin away, bringing my sword perfectly horizontal and slashing at his chest. He is too close to dodge, and takes the full slash across his chest, knocking him backwards. He stumbles, and I press the attack in a flurry of slashes and heavy chops. If he wasn't so gods-damned _fast_, I would have landed three times as many blows. As it is, this is the best I've ever done against the hero. Finally, I knock his sword away and hold the outer edge of _Honor_ to his ghostly neck.

"Do you yield, Master Perseus?" I can't believe it; I have bested the greatest swordsman in Greek history.

The hero smiles up at me. "I yield. Truly, you are a master of the blade, young Perseus. I am honored that you carry my name." I offer the fallen warrior my hand, and pull him to his feet.

"Tell me, how are you so fast? I couldn't even come close to hitting you half the time."

"Ha! That was hardly fast. When I wore the sandals of Hermes, I could move much faster than that. A shame I no longer have them; they would have been a fitting gift for you, a prize for besting me."

"What happened to them? Did Lord Hermes take them back?"

Perseus shakes his head. "I left them in the grove where I slew the Medusa. Athena bore me back home, where I saw upon the way fair Andromeda being harassed by the Kraken, and I slew the beast with the gorgon's foul head. The sandals are probably still there, come to think of it. The grove is hidden to those who are not told where it is."

My mind starts to whirl as thoughts form, and I have an idea. "Master Perseus, could I find the grove if you told me where it is? I wish to recover the sandals."

"Yes, if I told you where to find the accursed grove, you could enter freely. But I must warn you Perseus; whenever a legendary monster, such as Medusa, is slain for the first time, they leave behind a scent that draws in other beasts. The grove is no doubt swarmed by lesser monsters. But I can tell you are determined. Come, I shall draw you a map..."

With the map and Perseus' blessing, I seek out my father to explain my plan. I find him reading in the library. I can't help but notice an odd change in my father over the past few years. If I didn't know any better, I would say he's... aging. His skin is a shade paler than when I first met him, and I swear his hairline has receded a tiny bit. He also doesn't wear his armor as much anymore, preferring long, soft robes of woven gold. But his eyes glimmer with the same life, and his smile is as bright as ever.

"Ah, Percy. How has your training gone today?"

"Excellent, father. I managed to force both Achilles and Perseus to yield in battle."

"This is wonderful news, my son! You are becoming a mighty hero indeed."

I smile at his praise, and feel a blossom of pride bloom in my chest. "I actually came to ask you something. I want to go on a quest."

"What? Whatever has brought on this desire?" My father looks more intrigued than concerned, though.

"Master Perseus told me the sandals of Hermes he was given on his first quest were left in Medusa's Grove. I wish to retrieve them, and return them to Lord Hermes."

"And why do you wish to do that?"

"Because it would be good practice for future quests, and I am sure Lord Hermes would appreciate them being returned after so long. Please, dad?"

I know the last part got him. "Alright. Do you know where to go?"

"Perseus gave me a map. The grove is located on a small island off the coast of Sicily. I just need to get there, and I can find the grove."

Aurelius nods slowly. "I will send you to the island, if that is your wish. But if you are not back in three days time I will tear the Mediterranean Sea apart to find you."

"Love you too, dad. Alright, let's go!" My father waves his hand, and I disappear in a flash of golden light.

* * *

Medusa's Island is a lot smaller than I was expecting. Hoisting the backpack my father gave me, because I was too excited to remember one, I climb a small hill and can see every beach on the island at once. I breathe in the salty air, and smile. Apart from my visits to Uncle Hades, I haven't left my father's palace since he took me in.

According to Perseus, the entrance to the grove is hidden behind a curtain of ivy, hanging from a split rock formation. I wander the island for half an hour, wondering if the grove has been destroyed in the intervening years, when I spy a tall, craggy spire of rock that looks completely out of place. A curtain of leafy green ivy hangs down one side. I smile and approach, only to stop dead at a growling sound. I turn around, and see a pack of three dozen hellhounds has swarmed behind me. They look just like the monster Aurelius saved me from, all those years ago.

But they seem so much smaller, now. I can see their stances, and know which ones will attack first, and which will dash to the sides. I can see where their muscles bunch and move, and know the limitations of their bodies. I can see the hunger in their eyes, and know which ones will try to run, and which will stay and fight. I will _Honor_ to form, and ready myself. The first wave leaps at me, and I spin and strike them into dust before they get close to me. The ones that dashed to the sides try and flank me, but a well timed whirlwind spin and they leave pretty golden trails on the ground. The hungriest ones just lunge at me, but I chop through them with ease, dodging their simple bites and thrusts. Soon, all that are left are me and four others. I spared these, because I know they will flee. I feint an attack, and all of them turn tail and run away.

Smiling, I walk through the ivy and into Medusa's Grove. I don't know whether the grove is underground, or the rock extends further back, or it's just magic, or some combination of the three; but the grove is not what I expected. A large, roughly circular cavern of stone. Vines of flowering green hang from the ceiling, giving the place a surprisingly bright atmosphere. A few ruined columns, covered in purple flowered vines, surround a small pool. The crumbled shell of an ancient Greek house sits against the back wall. I approach the pool, and see a long, low couch beside it. According to myth, Perseus snuck up on Medusa while she was gazing at her horrid reflection, and took her head before she knew he was there. Moving forward, I see something settled on the couch. A pair of ancient sandals sit on the couch, covered in a fine layer of dust. On each side of the heels of the sandals are long, elegant, white wings. At my approach they flutter softly, as if sensing my presence. I take off my socks and shoes and tuck them in my back pack, seeing a square of ambrosia and a flask of nectar nestled in among a sweater and a few throwing knives. I pick up the winged sandals; the leather is surprisingly soft and supple for being so old. I slip them on, and they fit perfectly. I can feel the powerful magic within the sandals, and an almost tangible longing to _move_. Almost instinctively, I tense my muscles, willing the power in the footwear to surge forward. In a heartbeat, I have shot out of the cave and past the boundaries of the island. I hear a dull thud, and vaguely register I must have broken the sound barrier.

It's then that I realize that I'm flying.

I would expect that flying with wings attached to my feet would feel like my feet were being yanked upwards, but that's not it at all. It feels more like I'm standing on a large mattress, the wind gently lifting me up, keeping me aloft. I think about moving forward, and I drift a few feet. I think about going higher, and shoot up at least a dozen. I couldn't help the grin stretching across my face if I wanted to. I lean forward and shoot across the open sea, letting out a long stream of woops and cheers. Soon, though, I remember why I wanted the sandals in the first place. My face falls a little at the thought of giving up the footwear, but I know it's the right thing to do.

_"__Um... can you -guys? I'll call you guys... Can you guys get my thoughts?" _I think to the sandals, feeling very foolish. I feel less foolish when I get a very strong feeling of _YES!_ from them, along with gratitude that I freed them from the cave after so long.

_"__Okay, good. Well, I rescued you guys because I wanted to bring you back to Hermes. And, um, I'm not sure how to find him...Can you help with that?"_

Instantly I feel a tug pulling me up and forward, and I just let the sandals drag me to Lord Hermes. We went faster and faster, the landscape blurring beneath me. I vaguely register a large city -New York?- before swooping straight up, past the tallest reaches of the Empire State Building, up into the clouds. And then I saw it, in all its shining glory:

Mount Olympus.

The sandals pull me forward so fast I shoot past minor gods and spirits walking the streets. My tailwind lifts up the skirts of a passing goddess, and I blush crimson. Soon enough, the sandals stop me dead in front of a large palace. The building looks like a post office/hospital/hostel/pawn shop all rolled into one. Fitting, I suppose, for the God of Messages, Doctors, Travelers and Thieves. I approach the front door and knock, hesitantly.

"I'm not taking any new orders! I'm backed up enough as it is!" I hear a reedy voice call out.

I knock again, louder this time. "I thought I told you-" The door burst open, and Hermes stands before me, looking pissed. "No new orders!"

The God of Travel has short, curly black hair sprinkled with gray at the temples. He is rather short, barely taller than me, but very athletically built. His eyes are sparkly blue, and his face brings a mischievous sprite to mind. But he looks anything but spritely right now, with his face beet red and a scowl twisting his features into a grimace.

"I'm not here to place any orders, Lord Hermes." I say respectfully, making sure to bow low. I can tell he's on a short fuse right now.

His scowl softens by a fraction, but only just. "Fine. Sorry if I snapped at you. Things have been piling up lately... you take a two-hour lunch break and it all goes to Hades!" He sighs. "What do you want?"

"I'm here to return your sandals, Lord Hermes." He looks down at my feet, and notices the winged footwear.

"I haven't loaned out any of my sandals recently. Not for two hundred years, since Athena's kid Napoleon needed to get off that island. Where'd you get them? Some knock off shop run by a son of mine?"

"No, sir. These are your _original_ sandals. The ones you gifted to Perseus to slay the gorgon Medusa."

Hermes looks shocked. "But the idiot lost them over two-thousand years ago! How'd you find them?"

"Perseus mentioned where they were, and I thought you might like them back."

Hermes rubs his chin for a moment before stepping aside and gesturing into the palace. "You better come in and tell me everything." I step past the god and enter the palace, which looks like an overstocked storeroom at the moment. Piles of crates, boxes and envelopes, all bearing the seal of "Hermes Express", litter the halls in piles reaching the ceiling. The god pushes a pile of crates off of a pair of sofas. One of them growls.

Hermes sits and I do likewise. "So, tell me your story, son."

And so I do. I explain how I'm a son of Aurelius (adopted), how I've been training for the past five years to become a hero, how Hades was kind enough to lend the souls of heroes to help train me (he was shocked at that one), and how after besting Perseus in battle Perseus mentioned how he lost the sandals and that I wanted to recover them. Hermes sits there, stunned, before leaning back. His shoulder brushes a box, and the whole pile comes crashing down. He lets out a string of Greek curses before waving his hand and resettling the mountain of packages. He sighs, before clasping his hands to his head and staring at the floor.

"This... is a mess. Well, before I get sidetracked with the massive amount of deliveries I have to make, let me welcome you to the family, cousin. I'd offer you some sort of reward for returning my sandals, but I'm swamped lately. I guess... do you want to keep them? I mean, I know they're two millennia out of date, but they're the originals."

"Um, I'm honored Lord Hermes, but I didn't want a reward. I just thought you might like them back. Though, if I might make a request?"

"Fine, fine, what is it?" He looks bored.

"Um... no offense, but... do you need any help? I mean, this looks like a lot for even a god to handle by themselves."

"Did... did you just offer to... help me?" I can't tell if he looks furious or relieved. "No one ever helps me! There have been heroes who refuse quests that involve helping me. Heracles almost failed because we were toying with the idea of making his last labor taking over for me for a day! Are you serious?"

"Of course, Lord Hermes. If I can ever offer someone help, I will. That's what heroes do, right?"

"Yes, but almost all have forgotten that fact. Alright. You can help me, and get some practice with those sandals, because you're going to need them. Prepare yourself, Perseus Jr. You probably are going to regret this."

How bad could it really be?

* * *

I was resting in my room after being thoroughly chewed out by my father. That's what I get for disappearing for four days... Though his anger softened a little when I told him I was helping out Lord Hermes. Or Hermes, as he insisted I call him. _"We're family, cuz. Just because my father needs everyone to bow and scrape to him doesn't mean I do."_ I had asked him to call me Percy, and he seemed to appreciate the difference between me and "the idiot who lost the greatest pair of shoes ever made". The shoes that were now resting comfortably on my feet.

I was bone tired. I hadn't slept since agreeing to help Hermes. He had introduced me to the joys of Olympian Coffee, and the rest is a blur of jittery memories. I remember delivering a crate of manticore spikes to Hecate... and getting a large bag of drachmas to deliver 'really, really quickly' to some cyclops in San Francisco... and a shipment of dresses ordered by Lady Aphrodite. Who, I had discovered, has never heard of putting on a robe to answer the door. Seeing the Goddess of Love and Beauty answering the door in a negligee made of spider silk and dew drops would stay in my brain forever, no matter how embarrassing it had been.

But I was glad I had helped. Hermes seemed so grateful, and had given me the sandals, along with his blessing. I could now pickpocket almost anything from anyone, and would always have a path available to me wherever I traveled. Both of which would come in handy someday. But for now, I just wanted to sleep for a week. Though I couldn't wait to try out my new incredible speed and agility, benefits of the sandals, during my battles with the other warriors. I drift into sleep with thoughts of battles floating through my mind.

* * *

"Perseus, my son, we need to talk."

Uh oh, I thought to myself. Whenever my father uses my full name I know he wants to talk about something serious.

"You have surpassed my wildest dreams in regards to your training. There is nothing left for the heroes of old to teach you, and they have all returned to Elysium. Your skills with the sword, spear, dagger, hand-to-hand, tactical planning and battle strategy are unmatched by any I have seen. But,"

Here's the problem...

"You need more training with the bow and arrow. You definitely do not have the... natural gift for it that you seem to possess with your other arms. Perhaps if Orion had trained you longer..."

"Hey, I do not regret what I did to that creep. He deserved it, and you know it." We were standing in the Arena, talking about my training. My thirteenth birthday was last week, and on that day I had surpassed all the heroes, both with and without the added gifts of my magical sandals.

Now, we were talking about archery. Orion had been there to teach me archery in the beginning, but after hearing him brag about his... exploits, I had banished him to the Fields of Punishment. There are definitely perks to being the Ghost King!

"I mean, a guy like that, who not only hurts women but then _brags_ about it, like he's fucking proud of it! Hades should have torn him to shreds the second he got to the Underworld!"

"Perseus, language!"

"...Sorry, father. But you heard how he was talking about Lady Artemis." That got me off the hook. Artemis was my father's favorite niece, and whenever anyone tried to hurt her...

Aurelius sighs and rubs the bridge of his nose. "I'm not saying he didn't deserve it. After hearing how he was speaking, around you of all people, I wanted to dissolve his very essence. I am merely lamenting the loss of the greatest mortal archer the world has ever known as your teacher. I have been thinking on this, and have come to a decision."

"That archery is not a very valuable skill anyway?" I try hopefully.

My father just laughs even more. "I wouldn't let him hear you say that; he's the god of it, after all."

"You don't mean...?"

Before my father can answer, the doorway leading into the arena opens in a burst of light. Unlike my father's light, which is warm and comforting, this light is hot and hurts my eyes. The glare fades to reveal a teenage boy, around seventeen. He is handsome, with sandy blond hair and an easygoing smile. Sunglasses cover his eyes. He is wearing a short sleeved orange t-shirt that reads, "Yes, I Am This Good Looking", a pair of khaki shorts and Greek sandals. A quiver of arrows is slung carelessly over his shoulder, and a golden bow is held loosely in his left hand. He is bobbing his head in time to the music on an iPod plugged into his ears. He walks towards my father and turns off his music.

"Hey, Uncle Aurelius! Long time no see, huh buddy? I hear you've got a deal for me?"

"Yes. Though I think introductions might be in order, first. Percy, meet your cousin Apollo, God of the Sun. And, more importantly for now, one of the twin Gods of Archery."

"Hey, pleasure to meet you, kid." I shake the Sun God's hand. It is perfectly manicured, yet surprisingly strong for such an easy going form.

"It is an honor to meet you, Lord Apollo."

"I'm sure it is. So, what was it you were saying about getting me some time off, Aurelius?"

"I have a proposition for you. I will take over as the driver of the Sun for a few weeks."

"Yes!" Apollo fist pumped the air."

"BUT..."

"Oh, man... always a catch..."

"But... during that time, I want you to train Perseus here as an archer. What do you say?"

Apollo crosses his arms, lost in thought, finally looking up at my father. "I have a haiku to explain my answer. Ahem." He clears his throat.

_Days off are awesome._

_Even when I have to teach._

_I will train the kid._

My father sighs. "I thought you were over that whole haiku thing..."

"Nope. They're awesome, just like me." I already didn't really like this guy. He seems nice enough, I guess, but he's so arrogant. But he is the second greatest archer in existence...

"Alright then. Percy, during the duration of your training I will be driving the Sun Chariot. So I won't be here. I have left plenty of conjurations to care for the palace, and Ilex is in charge until I get back."

"What!? Come on, I don't need my sister to look out for me, I'm thirteen years old!" I argued. Some of my manners seem to be canceled out by teenage rebellion. Go figure.

"I heard that!" Comes a feminine voice from behind me. I let out a soft curse under my breath. Ilex marches into the Arena looking smug. She stops in front of me, and crosses her arms across her chest. "And yes, you do need me to look after you. Who knows what trouble you could get into without dad around? Remember when you convinced Hades to let Cerberus into the courtyard...?"

"I just wanted to play with him." I grumble. I had to clean up the drool for days...

My father sighs and turns to Apollo, who is trying hard not to laugh. "Is the chariot outside?"

"Yeah, here's the keys." Apollo pulls out a set of keys attached to a mini sun key-chain and tosses them to my father. After giving Ilex and me hugs, my father flashes out of the room.

Apollo claps his hands together before waving them. A set of archery targets appear farther down the Arena, and he hands me his bow and the quiver of arrows.

"Alright, let's see how you do, kid." He sits in a beach chair he conjures up, and poofs one up for Ilex after she coughs at him.

I take careful aim, pull the arrow back, and let it fly. It grazes the top edge of the target before sinking into the back wall. Apollo sighs mightily. "Well, it went in the right direction, so that's a start."

After a two weeks of Apollo's training, my aim hasn't gotten much better. I can usually hit the target, at least. So there's that.

"Alright, let's take five." The Sun God decides after I strike the next-to-outer ring on the target. He conjures up two folding chairs and a table between them. A pitcher of lemonade sits on the table with two glasses. I collapse into the chair and- carefully -toss down the golden bow.

"So tell me, have you ever had an archery teacher? Ever?" Apollo asks, taking a sip of his lemonade.

"Briefly. For about three days I was instructed by the archer Orion."

Apollo's smile vanishes instantly. "I see. And pray tell, what happened to him?"

"I banished him to the Fields of Punishment for eternity." I reply nonchalantly, sipping my own lemonade. A little too sour.

"Really? Okay, two questions: How? and, Why?"

"Well, I don't wear this just because it looks cool, you know." I say, tapping the flaming black crown on my head. "I'm the King of Ghosts and Spirits. Which means if I happen to think a soul has gotten the wrong outcome... I could possibly persuade Lord Hades to remedy the situation."

"Why would Hades give you the highest honor in his domain?"

"Because he loves me. And I love him, he's my favorite uncle. Granted, he's the only uncle I've ever met, but I still like him. No one ever gives him the credit he truly deserves; they're all too busy casting him as the boogeyman."

"...Alright. I'll buy that. But why would you throw away the greatest mortal archer to ever live as a teacher?"

"Because you didn't hear the things he was saying. He actually _bragged_ about raping the princess Merope, before he took up with the Hunters of Artemis. He almost did the same to one of your sisters hunters, and went on and on about how he was _this close_ to 'getting that tease of a Moon Goddess' maidenhood'. He tried to give me pointers on how to pretend to listen to a woman's feelings to seduce them. After three days I couldn't take it anymore and ordered the other heroes to beat him senseless, before commanding him to sign up for a tour of the entire Fields of Punishment."

Throughout the course of my story my voice gets louder and louder until I'm practically shouting by the end. And Apollo looks furious but also... proud?

"Good for you, Perseus. I was never happier than when my little sister finally came to her senses and killed that bastard. I can't tell you how upset I was when he got Elysium. It took a while, but it seems like he finally got the afterlife he deserved. Though, that still doesn't answer why you would do that. You've never even met Artemis, and to be honest, she wouldn't lift a finger to save you if you were in trouble. She hates men with a passion that's a little scary."

I look at the bow I threw to the floor a few minutes ago. "My father likes her. She's his favorite niece, and if he cares about her I care about her. And I just can't stand men like that. That's the kind of man my step-father was. The kind to take advantage of others just to hurt them and make themselves feel more important. I hated the way he acted, so I took matters into my own hands."

I feel something on my shoulder. Apollo is patting me on the back. "Thank you. I'm glad that some people still have a little decency left, like you. Makes me proud."

I stare at Apollo. "Aren't you the god who consistently frequents nightclubs to flirt with drunk women and has one of the largest group of demigod children besides that pig Ares?"

He tugs at his shirt collar. "Um, well, technically yes... But I never force anyone into anything. And I would never hurt any of the women I'm with. And I always check up on my kids, unlike my half-brother. Ares has had so many die off before they got to camp he's singlehandedly raising the demigod mortality rate."

"Fine. But you have to admit you're still a womanizer. Now, can we get back to training? I'd like to see some improvement at least."

"Sure thing kid. Actually... you know what? I like you. I'm gonna give you my blessing." Apollo's hand starts to glow brilliantly, and he reaches out to touch my forehead. Instantly I feel the knowledge of how to perfectly handle and care for a bow, how to fletch and care for arrows, how to craft both, and most importantly how to use them. I get to my feet and pick up the bow and quiver. Quickly and without hesitation I put an arrow to the string and let it fly. Before it has gone a foot I have another notched. In rapid succession I launch two dozen arrows until the quiver is empty. The first arrow strikes dead center of the target. The second arrow splits the first arrow. Each arrow in order splits the one preceding it, like in a cartoon. Finally all two dozen arrows have sunk into the same place in the target.

I turn to a grinning Apollo. "We couldn't have done that _two weeks ago_?! Seriously?"

"Well, my blessing is special. I couldn't just give it to some random stranger, now could I? Also... I kind of wanted to milk my free time."

I sigh. "Fine. Thank you, Lord Apollo, for your blessing."

"Hey, just Apollo, kid. Anyone who'd sentence a dead hero to eternal torment for my baby sister's honor is a good guy in my book. And you definitely seem like a good guy." He pulls me into a man hug.

I smile. "Call me Percy."

* * *

Ever since my father came back from his turn driving the Sun a few months ago, he's taken a much larger interest in the outside world. We explore the world around us, and it's nice for a change of scenery. Don't get me wrong, the views of northern Greenland from the windows of the Palace of Light are awe inspiring. But my father finds parts of the world that are filled with the sort of raw, natural beauty that hasn't existed since Pan walked the world.

Today we are walking through the hills of northern Greece. Something is different today, though. There is none of the carefree chatting we usually do, and instead of wandering as we will, my father seems to have a destination in mind. Eventually we stop in front of a green valley, a short distance away from Mt. Olympus. I can see it on the horizon.

"Perseus. Do you know what will happen in three days time?"

"In three days... the Winter Solstice. The Council of the Gods will meet."

"Correct. I will be expected there... and I want you to accompany me."

I'm shocked. No god ever brings their demigod children to the Council meetings. It's unheard of. "I'm honored... but why?"

"You will become very important someday soon, my son. Olympus will learn of your existence sooner or later. And this way, we may do it on my terms. But just in case something goes wrong... we're here for a little insurance." My father snaps his fingers, and I can _feel_ the powerful veil of the Mist part before us. What was just a moment ago a small green valley is now a deep valley situated between two giant rocky mountains. We enter the shaded valley, and I can still feel the thick layers of Mist unrolling around us.

"Pop Quiz, Percy; tell me what you know about the Aloadae."

"Okay. The Aloadae were the two giants Otus and Ephialtes. Twin sons of Iphimedia, wife of Aloeus, by means of... Poseidon." I can hardly say his name for all my anger. "They were incredible hunters, and grew quickly. By the end of their days they stood at nine fathoms tall. They decided to storm Olympus to claim Ladies Hera and Artemis as their wives. Ares tried to defend the mountain, but the two were too strong. They bested him in combat with no difficulty. They sealed him within a bronze vase for a week and a day. They were so strong they could move mountains with their bare hands. They stacked smaller mountains until they made a staircase that reached the peak of Olympus. On the eve of their ascent Lady Artemis learned of their only weakness; they could only be slain by each other. She took the form of a beautiful doe and bounded into their camp. Being skilled and arrogant hunters the pair couldn't resist the challenge, and threw their spears at the creature. But Lady Artemis disappeared at that moment and the spears flew into their chests, killing them both."

"Very good Percy." My father stops walking in front of a giant rockslide. "And their essence was so powerful it never reformed from Tartarus. There was never enough energy for them to gather enough to return to earth. But the power of their blessing remains within their bones."

I'm about to ask what any of this has to do with a valley, when the final layers of the Mist peel away, and the rockslide is no longer a rockslide.

A giant skeleton, at least fifty feet tall, lies against the side of the mountain. What appeared to be a tree branch growing off the side of the mountain is now revealed to be a spear, sticking through the monstrous creature's ribcage. Stunned, I spin around and see another skeleton of the same size against the opposite mountain, only this one's spear is lodged in its throat. Both of them are covered in growth and vines, the bones bleached white by centuries of sun and wind.

"Perseus, I am going to transfer the Blessing of the Aloadae to you. Sit in the middle of the two ancients." I can only nod as I make my way to a raised stone halfway between the two skeletons. I dully register that this must have been where Artemis took the form of a doe as I sit down.

My father raises his hands and starts to murmur in a language older than Greek. A stream of golden fire pours forth from both of his hands and fills both skeletons. With a deep creaking the bony behemoths start to shake and rise. The chest-wound giant pulls its right arm from beneath the earth and points at me, the tip of its bony finger not a foot from me. The throat-stabbed skeleton's right arm is detached, but it still floats in the air as if it were still connected, and mirrors the action.

My father's chanting reaches a crescendo, and falls silent. I sit in the utter silence, the two corpses of the fallen giants on either side of me, their dead hands not a foot away. Then with an earsplitting **boom **the two start to dissolve into golden fire, swirling through the air to coil around me. As the fire fills my skin I want to scream, but I can bring forth no noise. It feels like sandpaper is being rubbed over my skin, exfoliating with battery acid. All the fire fills my body, and still the skeletons dissolve, and even more fire fills me.

It might have taken a minute, or an hour, until the last trace of fire is absorbed. When it is over I collapse forward, breathing heavily. My skin feels... weird. Like I just took a really hot shower and the steam is still sticking to my skin. Not unpleasant, just odd. My father is at my side in an instant, holding me up.

"I'm so proud of you, Percy. I can think of no one else strong enough to receive the blessing without burning away." I look to the side, and see the large indent in the mountainside where one of the skeletons once sat.

"So... so what does the blessing... what does it do?" My mind is still kind of blurry. I see my father conjure up a golden longsword and bring it down hard on my head. Before I can react, it connects.

And shatters into a thousand pieces.

I can feel it perfectly, I can feel the razor sharp edge, and can feel every shard as it shatters. But they don't hurt, or break my skin. If anything, they tickle.

"With the Blessing of the Aloadae, no one can hurt you. Except you. And natural accidents, technically. But against monsters, heroes, gods... you are untouchable. The blessing also grants you the giants' strength. Come."

My father lifts me to my feet. I'm already feeling better. He guides me over to a boulder at least ten feet tall. It must weigh five tons.

"Lift it."

I stare at him like he's lost his mind, but move to lift the stone. As I crouch and dig my fingers into the bottom of the stone, I feel them actually dig _into_ the bottom of the stone. I slowly stand, and almost fall over in shock as the boulder rises with me. It weighs, to me at least, as much as a gallon of milk. I get cocky, and take one hand away, holding the giant rock over my hand on the palm of my right hand.

"Now you are ready, my son. Now you are ready to become the greatest hero who has ever lived.

Standing here, the strength of the giants in my blood, the powers and blessings of my family coursing within my body, I feel inclined to agree.

* * *

**A/N: Okay. Longest chapter I've ever written, for anything. This all kind of fits into the category of Percy's training, so I couldn't break it up. I wanted to really show the fact that all the gods and goddesses are technically Percy's family, so I added in the scenes where he earns their love and respect. Plus I like Hades; he never gets the love he deserves. Don't get used to chapters this long, either; it physically hurt to write one so big. Next chapter has the young hero meeting the Council of Olympus! How will Poseidon react? Well, if you review you'll find out much faster. **

***Hintity hint hint***


	3. Chapter 2

**A/N: I just got a new keyboard, and I'm still getting used to it, so this one took a little while longer than I expected to write. In all seriousness though, all the responses I'm getting for this are just awesome. There were a few valid concerns, so I'm just gonna address them here.**

**1. Probably the one I expected to be the biggest source of complaints was giving Percy the Blessing of the Aloadae, and making him too powerful. I'd like to point out the blessing only protects him from ****_creatures_****. A freak accident, like a rock crushing him, would still kill him. And he can still hurt ****_himself_****, which will be touched upon later. I kind of have a darker patch saved for near the end...**

**2. I will try and keep Percy as a kind, humble hero. I realize near the end of chapter one he was coming off a little cocky. Just chalk it up to him being a thirteen year old pretty much given the powers of a superhero. I think anyone would get a pretty big ego boost from that.**

**3. A couple of people have asked me to make this a Percy/Annabeth story, but I'm sorry, I just never could warm up to her character. That's not to say they won't be all flirty in the story, but she won't be the final pairing. To be honest I still haven't decided on a final pairing, though I have plotted out a few minor ones throughout the course of the story. If I do decide to have him end up with a maiden goddess, which I'm not saying I will (I'm debating Percy/Thalia a little, to be honest) I'm going to make it realistic. It's ****NOT****going to go all, "Oh Perseus, you're so handsome and kind, not like any man who's ever lived. I know I've upheld my sacred vow of maidenhood for millenia, but I'm going to give it up just for ****you****after knowing you for like a week." No. Not gonna happen like that. And for those who ****_do_****write out stuff like that, you know who you are.**

**So, that's all I wanted to say. Sorry if it got a little rant-like. So, you know the drill; disclaimer then story. Hope you like it!**

**DISCLAIMER: Percy Jackson and all related characters belong to Rick Riordan. Aurelius, Ilex and one square foot of land in Scotland belong to me.**

* * *

**Chapter 2: Percy Jackson meets the Olympians! ****_(Tuesdays at 9)_**

**Percy's POV**

I am sitting on my bed, preparing to head to Olympus for the Winter Solstice Council Meeting, and trying not to throw up from the raw amount of nerves coursing through my stomach.

Demigods don't join in on the council meetings. Ever. I think they can visit Olympus during the solstice, but they aren't allowed anywhere near the throne room. Especially since the events of the last solstice meeting.

I have heard, through some nymphs who relayed the news to my father, that during last year's winter solstice a demigod stole Zeus' Master Bolt and almost caused a war on Olympus. The war was diverted when another demigod recovered the bolt. Uncle Hades was involved with a serious part of the quest, and gave me more details that the nymphs couldn't. Including the identity of the demigod who was currently lounging in the afterglow of a quest well done; a son of Poseidon. Apparently my sire couldn't keep it in his pants for more than a few months at a time, and had fathered another demigod about a half-year older than me. Only he seemed to actually care about this one.

This new sea spawn was, according to Hermes (God of Travel means you overhear a few things), a spoiled brat. The son of a wealthy Grecian cruise-line heiress, he had never wanted for anything in his life. Raised by pampered nurses, he was named, of all things, Hercules. Really full of himself, the boy was an embarrassment to most of the gods. He had only _barely_ squeaked by his first quest, and had only succeeded because of some satyr and a daughter of Lady Athena. He was pitiful with the sword, and couldn't improvise in battle to save his life. That didn't stop him from becoming so full of himself that I'm sure his ego could power a small city.

I tear myself from my angry thoughts, only to find I have absentmindedly tapped a hole in my marble floor with my shaking foot. I sigh loudly. Another one. Learning to control the Blessing of the Aloadae is taking a little bit longer than I thought. The giant piles of squashed doorknobs and entire doors ripped off their hinges is evidence enough of that. Luckily I'm a fast learner; I only squash them when I'm distracted. Soon enough it will be second nature not to rip everything apart like rice paper.

There is still an hour and a half until we have to leave. I get to my feet, walk to the door and look out into the hallway. Satisfied no one is around, I close and lock my door. Only the nymphs who I have coerced into helping me know about my guilty pleasure. I climb back onto bed and scoot back until I'm lying against the ornate oaken headboard. I reach my hand under the mattress and feel the papers of the magazine with my reaching fingers. I settle back, happy I managed to get the latest one so quickly. I open the the pages, and am sucked into the bright colors and incredible pictures...

...of this month's _Superman_ comic.

Yes, I am a comic book nerd.

Ever since some dryad had found one stuck in the branches of her tree and had given it to me, I've been hooked. I love the characters and the worlds and all the awesome stuff that is in them. The only reason I hide them is because last time I read one in the open, Ilex hadn't stopped laughing for a week. She really is my big sister...

But reading the latest storyline, reading once again about the selfless actions of the grandfather of all superheroes, I lose myself from the outside world. In a way, I kind of feel like Superman. We are both nonhuman (well, I'm _half_-human), living a world filled with them. We both have gifts and powers of incredible magnitude (I can actually lift small mountains; I made a smiley face with part of the Alps). We were both raised by families who were not ours by blood, but loved us like their own. And we both want to help the innocent.

It's actually a little sad, to be honest; the characters in these comic books, these heroes dreamt up by the imaginations of regular mortals (except for a few Marvel characters; Jack Kirby was a son of one of the Muses, after all) are more heroic than the _real_ heroes, the children of the gods. I know for a fact most children of the gods wouldn't lift a finger to save a mortal's life, and in many cases actually endangered and harmed mortals directly. By the Gods, Heracles alone did so many misdeeds during his famous labors he could fill a graveyard with the people he killed and a town with his illegitimate (and often non-consensually produced) offspring. And what did he get for all those horrible things? He's a god now. It's sickening, how the gods practically _reward_ the most ruthless and horrific of heroes. Finishing the comic, I check the clock on my wall.

Another hour to go.

Sighing, I tuck the comic back under my mattress. Maybe some yoga to calm my nerves. I can't quite get into all of the poses do to my still messed up leg. If I let the medical side of my blessing of Apollo kick in, I'd be able to know exactly what was wrong with my leg. But I already know the damage is irreversible, so it would be a waste of focus. Breathing steadily, I flow through the motions, letting all my stress relax away as I fall into the practiced movements. Willing _Honor_ into existence, I start going through my sword techniques, melding them into the yoga moves. I pick up speed, moving faster, never missing a beat. Soon I'm a twirling whirlwind, my sword a golden blur as I dance on the balls of my feet. Subconsciously I'm glad I'm not wearing Hermes' sandals; who knows how fast I would have started moving. I end the exercise balanced on one foot, the other curled up against my standing legs' knee. My sword is balanced perfectly on my outstretched finger, my other hand held out for balance. Slowly exiting the pose, I glance at the clock once more.

Thirty minutes left. Good, I can start getting ready. Pulling off my sweaty clothes I take a quick shower, making sure to also take off my black crown. Since the crown is tied to my life force I can't feel it, but to other people it is apparently colder than ice; last time I accidentally wore it in the shower the water froze into hail stones and bounced off my head. Exiting the shower I will myself dry, which is undeniably an incredibly useful skill, even if I did inherit it from _him_. I look over the outfit I have decided to wear today before pulling it on.

Blue jeans, worn enough to be comfortable but still together enough to not be considered unwearable, held up by my gold leather belt. A white t-shirt that hugs my muscles enough to look good, but not enough to be outright flaunting my physique. Over that goes a long sleeved golden silk dress shirt, unbuttoned, that hangs to my knees. A necklace Ilex gave me for my birthday; a sprig of holly set within a golden circle, which goes around my neck. Hermes' sandals serve as the only shoes I ever wear, and today is no exception. I strap my golden bracer to my left forearm and cover my entire mangled left hand in the golden gauntlet. No need to give any of the gods something to mock me about. I check that my khopesh has taken its usual bracelet form, and finally return my flaming black crown to its rightful place on my brow. I like the crown a lot. The flames are black, but they have an almost raven blue tint to them, giving them a good deal of depth. Wearing the crown reminds me that I'm the King of Ghosts and Spirits, which reminds me once again that I need to conduct myself with respect and courtesy. It has been pointed out recently that I've gotten a little full of myself lately. Which was pointed out by my father. And Ilex. And Uncle Hades, Aunt Persephone, Hermes, and Apollo. Seriously, when Apollo says you're getting arrogant, it's time to really rethink some things.

I walk over to my wall mirror, and take a good look at myself. With the clothes and the accessories, I suppose I look godly enough. But the face ruins it. Without any of the many reminders of my short time with Gabe, I guess I could at least qualify as _somewhat_ handsome. But... not so much anymore. The most obvious problem being my nose, which points at least an inch to the right of my face, and its bridge being permanently swollen. Though at least the tip of my nose is straight and well defined. The two major scars left on my face also detract from any good looks I might have wielded. One starts right under my left ear and carries along my jawline in a shaky line, until it hits my chin, where it abruptly jerks halfway down my neck before stopping. That one isn't too bad, though; it's only the width of about a pencil line. The one on the right side of my face is much worse. That one starts at my temple, just above the outer edge of my eyebrow, before running in a crooked line to my earlobe, before veering sharply to the corner of my mouth. That one is much thicker; the width of three toothpicks side by side, easily.

I stare at myself in the mirror, and I hate what I see. My self esteem isn't helped by the fact that I'm still pretty short. I'm only 5' 2'', and I hate that fact. Father took a look at the potential energy in my cells once, and said they were just waiting to shoot up like a bean stalk. He said there was a good chance of becoming as tall as his human form, which was an impressive 6' 5''. I'm pretty sure he's telling the truth; he once swore on the River Styx he would never lie to me. The only thing I see in the mirror that I like are my eyes. The golden rings of fire that appeared when Aurelius adopted me have slowly been growing every year. Now they take up just a little more than half of my iris, beating out the sea green for dominance. I love my eyes, the most physical manifestation of my father's love and influence on my life.

Stalling by brushing out imaginary wrinkles in my shirt, I can't put this off any more. I sigh heavily before lifting into the air slightly, the wings on my sandals buzzing softly with the effort. I gently ease open my door and float out into the empty hallway. I'm trying to avoid Ilex as best I can, because whenever she sees my sandals she wants to fly around the palace with them. And after having her land on me thirteen times in one month (her all time record), I've grown a little tired of it. Making my way silently towards the entry hall, I let my nerves get the best of me once more.

What if the gods refuse my presence? What if I'm too ugly to be on Olympus, and they throw me off the mountain like Hephaestus? What if my father is deemed unworthy of raising me, and they take me away? Deep down I know all these fears are rubbish; my father wouldn't let anyone harm me, and he's powerful enough to do whatever the hell he wants. Honestly, I don't think the other gods realize just how powerful Aurelius actually is. He controls all energy. _All_ of it. That includes the energy needed for their powers to even work. And the energy that keeps Earth alive.

The light from the sun? Provided by Aurelius, by means of the Sun Chariot.

Heat? Him.

Gravity? Yup.

The tiny, unnoticeable electric bonds that keep all matter together and keep the planet from folding in on itself like an unstable, radioactive house of cards? He can switch them around like poker chips as a parlor trick.

My father is one snap of his fingers away from turning the entire world to lime jello if he ever wanted to. And there is absolutely nothing anyone could do to stop him. Luckily for all involved Aurelius is probably the nicest sentient being to ever live, and just wants to live in peace.

My nerves are calmed somewhat by the sight of my father in his human form, waiting for me in front of the golden gates of the palace. Noticing my hovering, he waves me over.

"Come on Percy, we need to get going soon. A long way to Olympus, you know." He chuckles slightly, as we both know full well that he can just teleport there instantly, and at top speed I could get there in about a minute. But I decide to humor him.

"Of course father, wouldn't want to be late; they might not have enough goodie bags for everyone." He can't help but laugh a little, and snorts trying to hold it in. I love sarcasm. You can technically be as polite and well mannered as possible, yet still insult someone badly enough to really get to them. Very useful when dealing with precocious deities. As he stops laughing I swear I see, for just a moment, crow's feet in the corners of his eyes.

"Where's Ilex? Doesn't she want to wish us goodbye?"

My father rolls his eyes. "She's in her room, pouting, because she can't join us on Olympus."

"Alright." I wait for a minute, shuffling my feet.

"Before we leave, can I just ask you something?"

"Of course, Percy."

"Why now? You said it yourself that you haven't gone to a solstice council meeting in two thousand years. And from what Uncle Hades and Hermes have said, you haven't actually... spoken to any gods in about as long."

My father is silent for a moment as he contemplates his answer. Finally, he comes to one he likes. "Because I feel like it now."

"...Honestly? That's the best reason you have?"

"Yes. Because it's true. I feel like going now that I have something to talk about. Those things were so dull even when there were only ten of them on the council. With Dionysus and Hermes added, and Hestia forsaking her place for the drunken fool to make it 'even', it didn't sound worth the effort any longer. Besides, I already know whatever they decide to do has to come to me for approval. Well, they forget about it sometimes, but nothing really big happens without my knowledge."

"So why are you in your human form?"

"Because I haven't changed yet. And I've decided it will be far more... entertaining to go as someone else." And with that he claps his hands and is enveloped by a cloud of blue smoke. When the cloud clears, a stranger is standing in his spot.

He is short, only around 5' 6''. He is wearing long blue robes embroidered with silver waves and sea shells along the hems. Slicked back black hair sits atop a narrow, ratlike face, made even more rodentlike by the pointy nose and wiry goatee. His eyes are a muddy blue, and he's scowling.

It takes me a minute to recognize my father's disguise, but it eventually comes to me. He has taken the form of Malcyrion, a lesser river god from Ethiopia. Malcyrion is the very definition of bitter and antisocial, and has only shown up for maybe one or two council meetings, even though all gods are supposed to attend. My father has chosen the perfect disguise; someone who definitely won't be there in person, who technically belongs there, and who others will avoid just because of how mean and rude his reputation is.

"Let's get moving, alright Lord Malcyrion?" I ask calmly, holding back tears of laughter.

"Oh, this will be a good deal of fun. Let us be off!" And in a golden sunburst of light, we are gone.

* * *

I expect us to simply appear on top of Mount Olympus. But instead, we appear in front of the Empire State Building, gazing skywards to stare at the top.

"Why aren't people screaming that we just appeared out of thin air?" This is my first question; my second will be how are we getting to Olympus?

"The Mist is a wonderful thing, my son. And for your unasked question, I want you to see how to get to and from Olympus without any divine help." I shrug and follow him into the lobby. I see a few groups of tourists standing around, gaping at the grand lobby, while irate businessmen weave around them. It's easy to forget people actually _work_ in the famous landmark. My father walks up to a security desk, where a bored looking young man with serious skin problems is leafing through a novel.

He turns to look at me. "Pay attention." He turns back to the guard. "I would like the key to the 600th floor, please."

Without looking up the guard replies tiredly, "There is no 600th floor. The building only reaches a top height of 102 floors. If you would like to see the observation deck, tickets are for sale at the other side of the lobby. Have a nice day."

My father frowns and snaps his fingers. The guard's book disappears in a flash of golden fire, only to reappear in my father's hand. "The key please."

The guard looks stunned, then hastily bows and gets out of his seat. "S-sorry, Lord. Standard pr-procedure. Even today. Umm, here you g-go. You know how it works?"

He hands my father a laminated key card that has a picture of a lightning bolt and a Greek temple on it, underneath the letters CCCCCC.

"Yes, I am aware of the principles. Thank you."

We step away from the still flustered young guard, who hasn't even touched his book again. We approach an elevator, and suddenly every person waiting for that particular one steps into other groups in an almost synchronized motion. I am a little disturbed by the display of power, but it _is_ important mortals don't know about Olympus, so...

We enter the car, and my father hits the 'close door' button. He slides the card into a small slot underneath the button display, and a panel opens up, revealing a large button with 600 boldly printed on it. My father smiles down at me, and nods his head at the panel. I know it's kind of childish, but I can't help but smile as I reach out and press the button, sending the elevator riding into the heavens.

Literally.

Canned elevator music plays throughout the small box, as the number display slowly climbs into the triple digits, then starts to speed up.

"The meeting itself will begin in about ten minutes, so we don't have time for sightseeing. Though I suppose with all the help you give to your cousin Hermes you probably know the place like the back of your hand?"

"Well... the sandals do a lot of the work..." Even having helped Hermes out whenever he needs it, or whenever I need an excuse to get out of the palace (it's nice, but cabin fever in a palace is still cabin fever), I still don't know my way around Olympus that well. Usually I just think where I want to go to the sandals, and they take me there. Very useful.

Finally the numbers approach the high five hundreds and slow down.

596...

597...

598...

599...

600...

The elevator comes to a gentle stop, and with a soft ding the doors open. A long pathway connects the solitary elevator car with the main body of Mount Olympus. And it's just as beautiful as I remember it being from last week, when I was here visiting Apollo. Sometimes I wonder why he isn't the god of parties; he's always going to them. And he's pretty good about only taking me to age appropriate ones. Though he has "accidentally" taken me to few with enough alcohol I was surprised Dionysus wasn't whining at the bar like a dog at the table.

We walk through the main street of Olympus, which zigs and zags through the crowded buildings and palaces all the way up to the Olympian throne room. The roads are a lot more crowded than usual, though that's to be expected, with the meeting going on today. We weave our way past gleaming marble temples and white washed buildings selling every godly item you could ever want. A storefront proclaims it sells potions to match or outmatch Medea's in quality. Another stand is selling souvenir Master Bolts to small crowds of young gods and spirits. The atmosphere is festive, almost like a carnival. As we go higher and higher up the mountain, the buildings get nicer and nicer. I've only been up this high when I delivered those dresses to Aphrodite. The memory causes me to involuntarily blush and shudder, causing my father to look over at me. As we near the last plateau before the throne room temple, I catch sight of a large group of people, all wearing orange t-shirts. They keep close together, and are being lead by a kindly looking man riding a white horse.

The group in orange is gawking around the entire city, drawing attention to the fact that they really stick out like a sore thumb. Suddenly it occurs to me who the group is.

"Are those demigods?" I ask my father, curious.

"Yes. Those are the demigods from Camp Half-Blood, in New York. The man leading them is Chiron."

"Chiron? The immortal centaur, trainer of heroes?"

"Yes. He directs the camp, and is in charge of training the young demigods. Come, let us meet him."

My father breaks away from the road to approach the group, and I trail after him. As I get closer, I realize the man in front of the group isn't riding a horse; he's _half_ horse. The body of a large white stallion stands firmly upon the ground, and where the horse's neck would begin his torso starts. He is wearing a brown tweed jacket and a burgundy bowtie, with a quiver over his shoulder with a strung bow nestled amongst the arrows. He has short scruffy brown hair and a matching beard, with large bushy eyebrows. He seems surprised when my father and I approach, and then he bows from the waist down.

"Greetings, Lord. I.. hope we aren't bothering you?"

"No, no. I simply came by to greet you and your followers. Make sure that you are comfortable. And to introduce the boy here to a true master."

I was a little insulted at being called 'the boy', but my father was in disguise. He couldn't very well call me his son right now.

"Alright then, and thank you for your concern. And it would be a pleasure to meet any aspiring hero. Greetings, young...?"

I bow formally, and make sure to speak with as much elegance as I can muster; Chiron is the most famous trainer of heroes in all of history, after all.

"Perseus, Master Chiron. My name is Perseus. And believe me, the pleasure and honor are both mine. It is not every day one meets the most famed trainer of heroes to ever live."

"Such manners in this day and age are well and truly appreciated. Tell me child, why haven't I seen you at camp before?"

Before I can think of an answer, my father cuts me off. "I've been looking out for him. He doesn't know his godly parent, and he stumbled into my river, so I felt a sort of responsibility. I brought him here hoping to find a god who looks enough like him to see if we can't find his parent."

It's a good excuse, I'll give him that. As we are talking I see a girl break off from the group of demigods and walk over.

"Chiron? Who are you talking to?"

I think I might be staring at the girl a little bit. She is incredibly pretty, with curly golden blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail. She is very fit, and tall, and has tanned skin that I can tell is natural just by looking. And her eyes... her eyes are a shade of pure stormy gray that catch my eyes and hold them.

"Ah, Annabeth. I was just conversing with Lord Malcyrion and young Perseus here. Come, introduce yourself."

The girl -Annabeth- blushes a little at the realization she has interrupted a god's conversation.

"Hello, Lord Malcyrion. I'm Annabeth Chase, daughter of Athena. It is an honor to meet you."

"The honor is mine, child." He bows to her, and she blushes even more. Then she notices me standing here, and quickly stammers out a greeting. "Um h-hello... Perseus, was it?" She sticks out her hand to shake.

"Yeah, I'm Perseus. A pleasure to meet you, Miss Annabeth." I bow to her, and kiss the back of her hand. She blushes furiously now, and looks away, before she seems to notice something. "Perseus? Your, uh... your hair is on fire."

Instinctively I reach up to feel what she's talking about, but my fingers only touch the feathery flames of my black crown. "Oh, that. That's fine, it's just my crown."

"Why do you have a crown?"

"You speak to royalty, child." My father interjects. "Perseus is the King of Ghosts and Spirits, favored hero of Lord Hades himself."

"Really? What did you do to get Hades to like you? I met him once, you know. He seemed a little... harsh."

"I simply treated him with the respect he deserves. He is a very fair god, once you realize exactly how much he's had to deal with over the centuries."

Annabeth looks like she's going to say something, but Chiron puts his hand on her shoulder. "Annabeth, we have to leave now. The meeting is about to start, and demigods are no longer allowed in the council chamber. Where are you going to be for the meeting, Perseus? You are free to join our group, if you wish."

"Actually, he will be accompanying me to the meeting, Chiron." My father places his hand on my shoulder, as if daring the centaur to object. When Chiron only bows in farewell, and Annabeth waves goodbye, we resume our journey to the council meeting.

The great doors leading into the throne room are open, as the last few gods and goddesses enter the meeting. As we get to right outside the door, my father stops me and looks me right in the eyes.

"Percy, in this meeting the gods will decide things that will influence the mortal world. Some for the good, some for the bad. If there is something that gets decided that you truly disagree with with every fiber of your being, you might be tempted to speak out against them. You must NOT do this. You could probably stand against most of the gods with your current skills, but it will only make your life more difficult. Just let me know, and I will keep it from happening. I will find a place for you, out of sight, and when the meeting is over we will reveal ourselves. Alright?"

The thought that the gods might decide upon things that would anger me enough to cause me to speak out against them brings me pause. But I know how important this is, so I will do my best to hold my tongue.

"Alright, father. Let us go and rejoin your long lost family."

My father only snickers, and we walk into the throne room.

* * *

My first impression is one of boundless space. The throne room is huge, dwarfing even my father's ballroom, which could hold an entire circus troupe, Russian ballet act, and the Shakespearean Theatre Company (I know that, because those were the forms of entertainment Ilex wanted at her last birthday; she's a weird kid). There is no ceiling, and the sky above the hall is clear and shows the constellations in sparkling clarity. Around what must be the technical borders of the room are tall pillars, holding up a ring of white marble in a large rectangle. I can see, through the crowds of minor gods and goddesses, a large U shape of the Olympians' thrones. Most of the lesser deities are sitting on... folding chairs?

I do a double take, but my eyes aren't playing tricks on me. At least two hundred gods and goddesses are seated on metal folding chairs, like you'd see in a school auditorium. I tuck the obvious sign of disrespect into the back of my mind as my father leads us forward through the crowds. We approach the edge of the giant U, and for the first time I see all of the Olympians in their divine glory.

At the head of the thrones are two large seats, one made of solid platinum engraved with lightning bolts and one made of white marble engraved with willow trees and peacocks. These are the thrones of Lord Zeus and Lady Hera.

The King of the gods is dressed like a business man. He is wearing a pinstriped blue suit, perfectly tailored. His hair is long and dark gray, with a few streaks of stormy silver. He has a large beard, which is leaning more towards light gray than dark. He is currently scowling at something to his left, but I can tell his features are proud and strong. His eyes are also gray, but have streaks of brilliant, electric blue.

The Queen is dressed much more like a Greek Goddess. She is wearing a long, white dress that cascades like a waterfall of fabric. Her feet are encased in Greek sandals that wrap up to her knees. Bangles of gold encase both of her biceps. Her long hair is chocolatey brown, and woven into a braid along with golden ribbon. Her face is calm and beautiful, and her eyes are a deep, kind hazel.

Then my eyes fall to the current object of Lord Zeus' attention, and my blood freezes in my veins; and hatred, raw and brilliant, boils in my gut. The god to Zeus' left is tan, with rugged good looks and short black hair with a neatly trimmed black beard. He is laughing at his brother's distress, accentuating the laughlines around his mouth and eyes. His clothing is casual for such a meeting, and he looks like he just stepped off of the beach, with a Hawaiian shirt and khaki shorts. His throne is a fishing chair that looks like it was pulled off a deep sea boat. But where a normal chair might have a fishing pole set into a holder, this chair sports a gleaming bronze trident, crackling with aqua energy. All of these things are enough to point out the identity of the god, but it's the eyes that do it for me. His eyes are sea green, and I recognize the color because I see it whenever I look in the mirror.

There sits my sire, Poseidon.

My father tightens his grip on my shoulder as if hearing my inner turmoil, and steers me in between the thrones towards the hearth. We pass by two small thrones, and I see Uncle Hades and Aunt Persephone looking annoyed at it all. I want to stop and say hi, but my father just shakes his head and keeps pulling me forward. We stop in front of the large fire pit, contained within a circle of well cared for and well used stones. A young girl, maybe 8 years old, is tending the fire with a long iron staff.

My father bows to the girl. "It has been too long, sister."

The little girl looks up, and studies my father's disguise for a moment, giving me a chance to examine her. She has long, mousy brown hair tucked under a simple woolen shawl. She is wearing a brown dress and has bare and dirty feet covered in ash and soot. But her eyes are filled with warm and cozy flames, the red fire looking comforting and homely.

"Do I know you?" She asks, and her voice is not one of an 8-year old's. It is a warm, caring voice one might expect from a tired mother. My father eases up on the joke and allows his eyes to revert to their normal golden hue.

The girl gasps. "Aurelius."

"Hello, Hestia. I've missed you." He bends down and hugs the girl, who enthusiastically hugs him back.

"What has caused your sudden return, brother? We have not seen you in over two thousand years."

My father waves his hand at me, and I introduce myself with a formal bow. "Hello, Lady Hestia. I am Perseus, Aurelius' son. It is an honor to meet my father's favorite sister."

She ignores the bow and hugs me as well. It irritates me a little bit that she is almost as tall as I am. "Any child of Aurelius is dear to me, Perseus. No need to be formal. So, when did this occur? Last I heard, Aurelius, you had sworn to never-"

"Hestia. Please, not in front of the boy. Not yet." Once again there appears to be something about my father's past that he doesn't want me to know yet. But I never ask, because when he wants me to know he'll tell me.

"Alright. Though it is nice to see you, why have you sought me out before the rest of our family?"

"I was hoping Percy could wait by your side for the meeting. He is a demigod after all, and isn't supposed to be here. I am going to reveal him at the end, but I just need a safe place for him to wait."

Hestia mulls this over for a second before nodding. "Okay. He may remain at the hearth with me. Take your seat though, the meeting is about to begin." My father bows to Hestia before ruffling my hair and going off to take a seat close to the front of the crowd.

The slight mumbling of the crowd is suddenly silenced by a loud thunder clap. Zeus stands tall in his godly form, reaching his full height of 15 feet. "Fellow gods and goddesses, we are here once again to convene a meeting, on this, the day of the Winter Solstice. Today we shall decide the course of the world for the next six months, as well as our own concerns. So come, any god who wishes to speak may do so."

I prepare for a long, _long_ meeting.

* * *

While prepared for a long meeting, I was not prepared for such a _tedious_ one.

The only thing that kept me from flying out the window to try and find some fun on Olympus was talking with Hestia. She's really nice, and I enjoy her company. She insisted I don't call her by any title, and was very sincere in asking if I preferred Percy or Perseus. I like her, so I said Percy.

The meeting was pointless, in my opinion. Every time one god proposed something, another would shoot it down, a third would propose a compromise, and it would all devolve from there into a shouting match/popularity contest, with the god who had the most support ending up winning. It was pathetic, really, how the most powerful beings on the planet acted like damned kindergarteners.

An entertaining highlight of the entire debacle was how whenever Poseidon suggested something, a goddess wearing a breastplate over a long white dress would instantly vote against it. Her loose hair was long and black, and her face was angled and very beautiful. She seemed a lot thinner and leaner than the other goddesses, but not to the point of unhealthiness. A pair of pure gray eyes stared daggers at the Sea God whenever he spoke, and they made me realize who she was, because that Annabeth girl had the same eyes. This was obviously Lady Athena, Goddess of Wisdom and Strategic Warfare. Her hatred of Poseidon was never ending and legendary. I liked her immediately.

Most of the issues brought forth to the council were very petty and minor, such as gods who felt that other gods were stepping on their territories, and mortals who deserved to be punished, and those who felt they deserved a place on Olympus... The list went on and on.

After _three_ hours, the last complaints had been lodged, the last threats had been answered back, and the last desperate pleas had been ignored or occasionally accepted. The entire Olympian Council looked bored to tears, and tired enough to fall asleep in their thrones. Even though half of them hadn't even spoken up during the meeting. Honestly, Aphrodite hadn't looked up from her makeup mirror once.

"Alright. Is there _anyone_ else who has something to say?" Zeus asks the room, his tone clearly warning what will befall anyone stupid enough to keep the meeting going.

"I would like the floor, Lord Zeus." All eyes, and a few groans and sighs, turn towards the last speaker. My father has stood up, still wearing his Malcyrion disguise. "Though what I have to say only involves the Olympian Council, Lord Hades, Lady Persephone and Lady Hestia. So I see no reason to keep any of the other gods, who I am sure sorely wish to return home, any longer."

I can practically hear the other gods' desperate hopes that they can leave soon.

"Fine." Zeus rumbles, looking incredibly annoyed he has to stay even longer. "The rest of you are dismissed!"

Without waiting to see if he'll change his mind the rest of the minor gods and goddesses disappear in flashes of brilliant light. Now there are only 17 of us left in the throne room; the 12 Olympians, Lord Hades and Lady Persephone, Lady Hestia, my father, and myself. My father walks up before Zeus' throne.

"What do you think is so important as to keep us here, Malcyrion?" Zeus asks my father sternly.

"Well, Zeusy, there's something I really think I should share with all of you. I wasn't sure if I was going to, but after seeing how you all acted like a group of sugar rushed three-year olds back there, I'm pretty much set on my course."

I think I see a vein on Zeus' temple twitching. "You... YOU DARE INSULT US IN SUCH A MANNER?!" He pulls out his Master Bolt and points it threateningly at my father.

"Well, it was that or let loose a crate of dead skunks. But I didn't want to carry the crate up the steps."

What is my father doing? It's like he _wants_ Zeus to blast him with his lightning bolt...

… which is powered by my father's energy. Alright, I get it now.

That is apparently the last straw. Zeus pulls back his arm and hurls the lightning straight at my father, where it arcs and streaks right at his face. Just as the edge of the electrical bolt is about to reach my father, he calmly reaches out his right hand and grabs it.

The room is so silent I swear I could hear a pin drop. The bolt of lightning is just remaining in the air, the tip held in my father's strong grip. It disappears in a swirl of golden fire.

Zeus looks a little paler than he was a second ago. "You... are not Malcyrion. Who are you?"

"What? You don't recognize your own flesh and blood, Zeu-Zeu?" He makes that _tsk_-ing noise with his tongue. "I'm hurt."

"No ones calls me Zeu-Zeu! I hated it when Aurelius would... call... me..." He suddenly registers what he just said. My father just grins, and encases himself in a plume of golden flames. When the fire dies down, there stands my father, in all his divine glory. He spreads his giant wings and flaps them, sending a warm breeze through the room.

He looks around at the assembled gods and goddesses, most of whom look shocked, but a few like Apollo and Hades are just barely holding back laughter.

"Ahh, it's good to be home."

* * *

The room sits in a silence so complete, for a moment I think I've gone deaf. The silence is broken by an incredibly unexpected source.

"UNCLE AURELIUS!"

A silver blur rushes at my father and wraps itself around his legs. The blur resolves itself into a young girl, around 12 or 13. She is wearing a silver tunic with a quiver slung over her shoulder, and her ringlets of auburn hair are held back by a silver tiara. My father shrinks down to his human-sized form, and lifts the girl into a hug. She is smiling widely, and I can't help but notice she is breathtakingly beautiful. Honestly, Aphrodite is ten feet away from me, and I think this girl is much prettier than her. After a minute of hugging my father she opens her eyes, which were closed in happiness. They are the beautiful silvery-white glow of the full moon.

"I've missed you so much, sweetie. Though I'm glad to see you haven't changed a bit." My father says softly, kissing the top of the girl's head.

"I've missed you too, uncle. You're the only male I can truly call my friend."

That's when it hits me.

This little girl, looking no older than me, hugging my father and smiling like a little girl just reunited with her best friend, is Lady Artemis. _This_ is Artemis? The most feared hunter of monsters in the world, greatest archer to ever live, sworn to hate all men with a fury?

After another minute of the touching reunion, someone coughs. Apollo is looking at his twin sister, and is holding back laughter so badly he's starting to cry. Artemis seems to realize she has just made a slight fool of herself in front of the rest of the Olympian Council. She blushes, which just makes her look even more adorable. She drops from my father's arms and disappears in a flash of silver, only to instantly reappear in her throne.

"Now that that... unexpected interruption has passed, why are you here, Aurelius?" Zeus asks, staring at his daughter, who is looking at the floor.

"Hmm. Well, a few reasons, actually. One of which will definitely be a discussion of how you've all been running this planet in my absence. But that can wait. No, I'm here for two main reasons; to introduce someone to you all, and possibly to kill Poseidon. Not sure yet."

"What? What have I done to you, brother?" Poseidon speaks up for the first time. His voice has a relaxed, rich tone to it. It infuriates me.

"Don't. Speak. To. Me." My father growls. "After what you've done you're lucky I haven't ripped the immortality from your veins, you bastard."

"Aurelius, please enlighten us as to what you're going on about." Hera interjects, obviously trying to keep some semblance of peace. "We won't know why you're angry unless you tell us. You know none of us can read your mind."

"Fine. But first, the introductions. Percy, please come here." I look at Hestia nervously, but she just smiles and gives me the 'go-along' gesture. I stand up and walk away from the hearth towards my father, and into the view of the entire council. I stand quietly next to my father, and he places an arm around my shoulder reassuringly.

"What is this? You have brought a demigod into the Council chambers! That is against the rules, Aurelius. He must leave. NOW!" Zeus shouts.

My father just stares him down, until the King of the Gods looks away, scowling. Before he can speak, Hades beats him to it.

"Not so fast, brother. This child has my protection. He is my nephew, and I say he stays."

Hermes speaks up as well. "Yes father, let the boy stay. He's a good kid."

Apollo sobers up from his giggles at Artemis' expense to turn towards Zeus. "Yeah dad, Percy's a good little hero. No reason to kick him out."

Hestia speaks up in my defense as well. "From the little I've gleaned the past three hours, I believe Percy deserves to stay for this meeting."

I am filled with a deep feeling of gratitude and love towards my family for speaking up for me. I can see my father smiling out of the corner of my eye.

"Before you say anything, Zeus, let me introduce the object of your confusion. Brothers, sisters, nieces and nephews, I present to you my son, Perseus."

I bow deeply to the council. "It is an honor to be in your presence, Lords and Ladies."

Hera speaks up when everyone else seems shocked into silence. "Um, Aurelius, how do you have a son? You swore to never father another child ever again. And furthermore, I recall no woman giving birth to a child of yours."

"That is because he is not mine by blood. I adopted him."

"Then whose son is he really?" Aphrodite pipes up, surprising me that she was paying attention. "Because, no offense Aurelius, but besides the scars and his nose he's pretty cute." She winks at me, and I know she remembers my last visit to her palace.

"His sire abandoned him." My father states, avoiding the question for now. "I found him, alone on the streets six years ago, about to be devoured by a hellhound. He was running away from his stepfather, who was the one to give him the injuries you see now. Along with many others you don't see."

"What happened to his mother?" Hera asks. "Didn't she try to protect her child at all?"

"Percy's stepfather killed his mother in front of him by pushing her down a flight of stairs." Aurelius states emotionlessly.

"What?! He murdered a woman in cold blood?" Artemis all but shrieks.

"Yes, he did. And afterward there was even less to keep him from abusing my son even more."

"Didn't his father even check on the boy _once_?" Hephaestus asks in his deep, grumbling voice.

"No. He abandoned the boy and his mother to die at the hands off that monster. His putrid stench was strong enough to cover Percy's own aura, which is why I assume his mother married him in the first place."

The gods grumbled and muttered amongst themselves, until one finally spoke up.

"Who is his godly father then? I think we all agree he should be punished for the fate that has befallen his son." And, of course, it was none other than Poseidon himself who spoke up. Oh, irony.

"I'll give you a hint, _brother_." My father hisses, turning the word into a curse. "His mother's name was Sally Jackson."

Poseidon looks taken aback for a moment, before something clicks in his face, and he turns deathly pale. "H-how old is the boy?"

"My son is thirteen, and will turn fourteen in a few months. So, he would have been conceived 14 years ago."

"Poseidon? What do you know of this?" Zeus asks his elder brother.

"He- he can't be. No, no he isn't... I-I would never do that to my son." Poseidon stammers out.

My father turns to me. "Percy, would it be alright if I show them my memories of the day I met you? Including the memories of yours I saw when we met."

"Um, I... I don't really want anyone to see that. But, if you think it's a good idea, okay then."

My father claps his hands, and a swirling cloud of golden mist forms in the center of the room. The center of he cloud parts to reveal a scene that still occasionally haunts my dreams.

* * *

I see myself, from a bird's eye view, in the back of a small alley, while a large hellhound is approaching me. I hear my younger self call out, "Go 'way!", then close his eyes as he cries in fear. Suddenly a golden sword appears in the field of view, and flies with pure and deadly aim to lodge firmly in the monster's skull. As the hellhound dissolves, the point of view approaches the ground, probably because this is when Aurelius first approached me. I don't want to look at the images, though I can't help but take a good look when my father gets his first look at me. I looked even worse than I thought I did. My leg sticks out so far I'm surprised I could even walk back then, and seeing my mangled hand from another's perspective makes me a little queasy. I tune out the conversation, and look instead at the gods. They're all entranced by the scene in front of them, and most look sickened by the injuries my younger self sported. When the scene shifted and spun before settling again, I know that we're about to see my memories. I sink to the floor, trying very hard not to look. I feel a small hand take mine and squeeze comfortingly, and look over to see Hestia giving me a reassuring smile. I look back up, and try very hard not to relive those moments in my head. Currently we're seeing how my hand got mangled. I hear a retching noise from somewhere to my left. I think Demeter is gagging. The final memory pops up, and I'm surprised. I don't remember this one. I'm in a crib, I think, an an apartment I don't recognize. I see my mom, and she's crying into... Poseidon's chest.

After that my father lets the cloud disperse, and the rest of the gods stare at me. I look to the ground to avoid their looks of pity.

"Oh, you poor boy!" Suddenly someone is hugging me tightly, and I smell lotus flowers. I look up and almost fall over in surprise when I realize that it's Hera hugging me. The hug is very comforting, and I can't help but hug her back. After a moment I have to ask something.

"Um, Lady Hera, I mean no disrespect, but don't you hate demigods?"

"I'm the goddess of children, Perseus. I can't stand to see any child treated like that, even demigods. Honestly, the Fields of Punishment are too good for that monster."

"He didn't get the Fields of Punishment. I destroyed his soul." My father says nonchalantly.

"Too good for him." Hera scoffs, before letting me go, but I notice she's still standing next to me. "But for right now, let us turn our attention to my dear, dear brother." Hera says in a sickly sweet tone filled with malice. All eyes in the room turn towards Poseidon, who looks like he would rather be in Tartarus than here.

"I-I'm sorry," He begins, but is cut off by Hera. "You're what? You're sorry you put this boy through hell? You're sorry you left the woman you thoughtlessly knocked up to get murdered protecting _your_ son? You're sorry you abandoned your own son to focus on that pathetic excuse for a two-bit hero you had with that rich slut?"

"You leave Hercules and Alcmene out of this!" Poseidon retorts.

Her name is Alcmene? I think to myself. That was the name of the original Hercules' mother. Weird.

"Oh, I should leave the child you actually gave two damns about alone?" My father yells. "Do you have any idea the hell you left Perseus to rot in? And that 'Hercules' of yours is pathetic. I've looked in on him, and I'm as ashamed that he is my nephew as I am that you are my brother."

"I, I didn't know!" Poseidon yells back.

"You didn't know? Bullshit! You didn't care! You saw some pretty mortal girl, took what you wanted, then bailed when they needed you. I saw the memories firsthand. You told that woman to find someone mortal to mask _your son's_ scent. You never showed your damn face again. So don't tell me you didn't know how bad he had it; you just didn't give a damn!"

My father's rant stops when he looks over to see me, slightly trying to hide in Hera's embrace. I don't know why, but it's kind of instinctive; she's a strong, motherly figure, and I'm subconsciously frightened by the continuous shouting. I don't think I've ever heard my father shout before. It's weird; if I was fighting a monster, roaring at me, I'd be completely fine. But hearing my family shouting at each other so loudly, so violently, rattles me to my core.

His face softens. "Percy, why don't you go sit with your Aunt Hera, okay?"

I manage a nod, and Hera takes hold of my hand and leads me to her throne. Instead of resuming her godly height, she stays human and sits at the foot of her throne, patting the floor next to her. I sit, and she wraps her arm around me and pulls me close, like a mother would for a scared child.

My father turns back to Poseidon. "I wanted to introduce my son to my family. He will soon be out in the world, and I feel that if he will be in the real world I should take an interest in it once more."

"I thank you for looking after him, Aurelius, but... he is my son. I will make it up to him, and I will take care of him now that I have him back." Poseidon says, obviously trying to save face in front of the rest of the gods.

My father is about to say something, a look of outrage on his face, but before he can I say something.

"I'm not your son."

All the gods look at me.

"What did you say, boy?" Zeus asks calmly.

"I said, I'm not his son. Aurelius is my father, not Lord Poseidon."

"But he sired you. You have his blood in your veins, and I assume you have some of his powers as well."

"Yes, he sired me. And yes, I have power over the seas, and storms, and earthquakes. But he is not my father."

Poseidon looks torn, and tries to reason with me. "Percy, I know I haven't been-"

"Perseus."

He looks confused. "I heard Aurelius call you Percy."

I nod. "My _family_ can call me Percy. You are no kin to me, Lord Poseidon."

"You are my son, whether you want to be or not, Perseus. I will prove to you I can be a better father."

I stand up, shrugging off Hera's arm. "I. AM. NO. SON. TO. YOU. A father is there for his children. A father is caring. A father is kind. You left me to die. You left m-my mother to die!" I feel tears running down my face, but I don't care. Speaking this loudly is hurting my throat injuries, which have endured even till now. "I will never be your son. I hate you. I HATE YOU! Aurelius is my father. He was there for me, he was kind, he cared. You are not my father."

I collapse, holding back more tears. Hera gently rubs my back, making soothing noises. I'm too upset to realize how insanely odd it is that the Queen of the Gods is being... motherly, to me.

"I think you should leave, brother." Hera whispers harshly to Poseidon.

Poseidon looks angry, but also very sad, almost... heartbroken. "I'm- I'm sorry, Perseus. I will prove myself to you, one day."

He vanishes in a cloud of sea spray, leaving behind the strong scent of the ocean. Soon the other gods leave as well, most giving me glances of pity. Uncle Hades gives me a strong hug, and Aunt Persephone does likewise, and gives me a kiss on my cheek. Apollo hugs me as well. Hermes lays his hand on my shoulder, and tells me to be strong, and he's proud of me. Hestia also gives me a large hug.

"If you ever need to talk, come to the hearth." She says in a comforting tone, before kissing my forehead.

"Take care of yourself, Percy. Please, if you ever need anything, come to me." Hera says, kneeling down to hug me tightly, and I hug her back just as strongly. I like her, despite every story that would lead me to the contrary.

"Thank you, Aunt Hera." She smiles at me and disappears in a soft flash of light. Soon the only ones left in the throne room are Zeus, my father and myself.

"Perseus. You are a mystery to me. You have incredible power, I can see that myself. But I can tell all you want is to help others. You have the potential to become the greatest hero to walk the world. But you are also not supposed to exist; you were born from a broken oath. It took a day's worth of begging and bargaining from Poseidon to spare his spoiled brat, and even then he scoffed at my generosity. But you... I am not sure what you will do in your life, my boy. But I will let you live it, just so I can see what is in store. Do not make me regret my decision." With that parting speech, Zeus raises his hand and a bolt of lightning strikes his throne. He vanishes.

My father takes my hand and leads me from the throne room, since I'm still a little shocked from the events of the past few hours.

"Percy? How are you feeling?"

"I'm... not sure how I feel. I just told off the bastard who abandoned me, was welcomed with open arms (literally) by Hestia and Hera, and have been told by the King of the Gods that he's interested in how my life will turn out. It's a lot to take in."

"While you're already taking in a lot of information, I feel I can add this small bit. I have decided upon a way for you to get out into the world, starting next summer."

I am still reeling from the past few hours, but the thought of a chance to really help other demigods makes me pay attention. "What do you have in mind, father?"

"Remember Chiron and the rest of his demigods?"

"Yes."

"Come next year, you will be attending Camp Half-Blood. I can foretell that the most important events in the next few years will center around those demigods."

"If you think this is the best course of action, then I will go."

"I do. Come, let us return home."

In a blinding flash of golden fire, we vanish from the streets of Olympus.

* * *

**A/N: Okay. So, know how I said no more long chapters? I lied. I lied to myself, to my readers, and to my computer. Oh well, I doubt any of you are complaining. So, in this chapter we see a few more Gods, or rather Goddesses, love Percy like family. Which they technically are, so, yay! I know Hera isn't technically the goddess of children (she's the goddess of motherhood), but Juno is a goddess of children, so I took some liberties. I also added in the Artemis thing because it popped into my head and I thought it would be ****_sooo _****adorable. I mean, she's Aurelius' favorite niece, so it makes sense he'd be her favorite uncle. Alright, another chapter down. I would have had it ready like three days earlier, but: new keyboard + sharing a computer = little-to-no time to write well. **

**I love getting reviews, so please leave them!**


	4. Chapter 3

**A/N: I've realized something about my writing style; when I write a chapter, I have a predetermined amount of stuff I want to put into it. I will just keep writing, completely disregarding chapter length, until I have written everything I wanted to write for that chapter. Saying that, I'm loving writing this story, I really am. It's fun to put a random vision I have in my imagination to paper, er, screen, and see it take shape. After writing out a rough draft of the plot line, I have come to the conclusion that: A. This is going to be a very, ****_very_****long story. Like, ****_at least_****200k words. And B., I'm not entirely sure about how the canon timeline works. Since this is an AU I don't have to be entirely faithful to it, but I still feel like explaining: ****_The Lightning Thief _****came out in 2005, Thalia was turned into a tree five years before Percy got there, so she must have been turned in the year 2000, being released seven years later in 2007. This chapter takes place about a week after ****_The Sea of Monsters_****, so we're going to see Thalia right after she comes back to the world. I don't know when Percy's birthday is, so let's assume it's early in the year, so he's 14 at the start of the chapter. This chapter will occupy a six month span between books two and three, focusing on Percy's relationship with the fine folks at Camp Half-Blood- including one specific daughter of Zeus ;) I'm just going to say, right now, Thalia will be way OOC. I did that on purpose. Also, I know Riptide is a capped pen in the books, but that always just seemed so inconvenient to me, so it's now a click-top pen. Alright, read and enjoy.**

**DISCLAIMER: Percy Jackson and all related characters belong to Rick Riordan. Aurelius, Ilex and (this)Hercules belong to me, along with all OOCness.**

* * *

**Chapter 3: Camp Half-Blood**

**(6 Months Later)**

**Chiron's POV**

A few young heroes are practicing wrestling in the fields near the volleyball courts near the camp border. I approach to make sure they're not hurting each other, but I see a Hermes councilor keeping an eye on them, so I continue on my way. The soft grass on the hill near the border feels nice on my hooves after keeping them in my wheelchair for so long. It's late June, and the influx of summer campers has finally slowed to a trickle. Though I understand that keeping a human guise to reassure the newer campers until they settle in is important, it still doesn't make my hooves feel any less cramped in that wheelchair.

I sigh deeply, and let the rich summer air fill my lungs. Today is too beautiful to focus on the bad. I ascend the hill towards the southernmost border of camp, enjoying the view of the country surrounding the magical border. I stop at the crest of the hill, and hear a slight hissing from my right. I turn, smirking, to look down at Peleus, the young dragon we have set to guard the Golden Fleece. The tiny creature is serpentine, with coppery scales and sulfurous yellow eyes. He flicks out a forked tongue the size of a pipe cleaner, and tries to look menacing. Though it's hard to look menacing when you're only two feet long, and your eyes are large enough to take up most of your face. I pull a piece of steak out of a pouch I started wearing when we assigned the dragon as a guardian, and gently feed it to him. Peleus snaps up the meat then nuzzles my hand, licking my fingers for any more.

"Sorry little guy," I chuckle softly. "that's all I brought right now."

As if he can understand me, the infant dragon spits out a tiny ember of fire and curls around Thalia's Pine, directly under the Fleece. Looking at the tree just reminds me of the miraculous event that transpired not eight days ago. Thalia's Pine had been poisoned by Luke Castellan, after he had betrayed the Gods and Hercules had alerted me to the traitor, after Luke stabbed him in the thigh. Hercules had spent nine days in the infirmary, far longer than necessary, demanding attention and sympathy from all the other campers. The thought of that particular demigod makes my blood boil, and I grind my teeth in frustration. The son of Poseidon is terrible, just terrible, in every way.

He can't fight to save his life, he has absolutely no skill with his godly powers, and his ego has grown to rival Zeus' in sheer magnitude. The worst part is that one of the most promising heroes I've trained in years, Annabeth, has a large crush on him. Honestly, how can a daughter of Athena be so stupid when it comes to choosing boyfriend material?

I need to stop thinking about this. I breathe deeply, staring at the knot in the tree where eight days ago, after Hercules and Annabeth had recovered the Golden Fleece to restore the camp's border, Thalia, daughter of Zeus herself, had emerged from the tree. The magical properties of the Fleece were greater than anything I could have ever dreamed of. I was overjoyed the girl was back, of course. It is always sad whenever a demigod dies. But still, her life has not exactly been pleasant since she came back...

Her mother passed away a few years ago, her only family, besides her father Zeus of course, which hardly counts. She has missed out on the last seven years of the world, and the poor girl got confused by some of the technology that had advanced since then. Honestly, she freaked out when she saw an iPhone for the first time. And the other campers weren't exactly making it easy on her. Since she had appeared along with Luke, some campers thought she might be a spy as well, and others were just jealous of the power she wielded. That pompous Hercules was the most jealous of all; apparently not being the only child of the Big Three anymore got on his nerves. She puts on a brave face in front of others, but the last three nights I swear I have heard quiet sobbing from Cabin 1.

Finding out that her closest friend Luke was a traitor, finding out her mother was dead, and having her only other friend Annabeth spending most of her time fawning over the one causing her the most trouble...

Honestly, I could see exactly why she was trying so hard to seem strong.

My mind can't help but drift back to the young demigod I met a few months ago, during our solstice visit to Mt. Olympus. What was his name again-Perseus? Yes, Perseus. He was so polite and soft-spoken, though I could practically feel the power rolling off of him in waves. He would never act as crudely as Hercules, or any of his thuggish groupies, I'm sure of it. He obviously was someone important; he held the title of Ghost King, something Hades has not seen fit to give to any demigod before, not even his own children. I also noticed his sandals, obviously from Hermes. And gossip from after the meeting spoke about a demigod who the Olympians felt strongly about, one way or the other.

Mr. D was rather mute on that point, however...

Still gazing out into the mortal world, I start to turn away when something catches my eye on the horizon. Narrowing my eyes, I catch sight of something gold approaching the camp borders very quickly. As I stare, the shape grows closer, resolving into the form of a person running forwards with long, even strides, moving fast enough to kick up clouds of dust on the dirt road. When the figure reaches the foot of the hill, he stops and stretches out his back. It is obviously a boy, from his physique. He is very muscular, and his white shirt isn't loose enough to hide that fact. A small necklace with a flash of red and green hangs from his neck. A bronze colored hoodie with the hood pulled up catches the light and shines, giving him an aura of gold. His blue jeans are worn, and he is wearing a pair of archaic sandals. A backpack is slung over his shoulder, so patched it is impossible to tell what color it should be. A bow is also slung across his torso, the string cutting in to his chest as the body of the bow rests across his back. As he slowly walks up the hill, I get a better look at him. Now that he isn't running, I notice his right leg is very stiff, and he walks with a limp. He's not very tall, only about 5'5". A heavy gold bracelet is dangling from his right hand, while his left hand is covered by a golden gauntlet. He looks like a normal, stuck-up, pampered demigod, but his stride is one of a humble man, eyes lowered but with careful, certain steps. I'm not sure who he is, and from his speed and physique I can tell he would be a powerful warrior. I quietly draw my bow and loosely notch an arrow.

As the unknown warrior reaches the top of the hill, he seems to notice me standing there. I tense, subconsciously preparing to fight, but instead I'm surprised when he bows deeply.

"Master Chiron. It is an honor to see you again." His voice is surprising; it is very soft, and quiet, while still holding a tone of calm power.

"Do I... know you?" I ask, lowering my bow. He seems not to be a threat; he isn't even armed, and it would take him a second to ready his bow. He doesn't even have a quiver.

"We met, briefly, on Mt. Olympus last Winter Solstice."

"Wait a moment... Perseus?"

"I'm honored you remember someone as inconsequential as me, master." He says with a chuckle. "Perseus Jackson, reporting for camp."

Perseus flips back his hood, revealing his face. Short black hair wrapped in a halo of raven flames. A strong, proud face, with two large scars marring each side and a crooked nose offsetting what would probably have been a very handsome visage, topped with a tired smile. His eyes the same mixture of swirling golden flames and sea green. Though the gold seems to have expanded just a little since I last saw him. He looks tired, but content, as if he doesn't want to be here but has accepted it as his fate.

"You seemed like such a nice young man, you stuck in my memory. I'm glad to finally see you in camp. Do you know if your godly parent will claim you, Perseus?"

"Yes, he will."

"Good. Come along, I'll show you around while we wait for you to be claimed."

My mood having been brightened considerably, I happily lead young Perseus into the camp proper, waving to the few campers I see running about. Perseus walks slowly, leaving a respectful space between us, while still keeping up. I decide to try some small talk, learn some more about this odd young demigod.

"So Perseus, I see you carry only a bow with you? Is archery your preferred fighting style?"

The boy laughs softly. "No, Master Chiron, it is simply the only weapon of mine that doesn't condense down. I asked Apollo why, and I believe his exact words were, 'Dude, how can we deny the world the view of my awesome old training bow? It's not like you can lose it or anything, just suck it up and carry it proudly.'"

"That bow belonged to Lord Apollo?"

"Yes. It was his training bow, from when he and Lady Artemis were still training on the island of Delos as children. He gave it to me as a gift for finishing my archery training, along with his blessing."

I am amazed Apollo, who is a little arrogant I can admit, would give up something that valuable to a demigod that was not his own. I'm even more surprised that Apollo would give archery lessons to anyone. "What other weapons do you carry then, if they're hidden?"

Perseus calmly snaps his right wrist out, and a stream of golden fire flows from his grip. The fire solidifies into the form of a gleaming golden khopesh, around two feet long and razor sharp. I can see the ancient Greek characters on the blade spelling out the word τιμή: Timí̱. Honor.

A good name for a weapon wielded by such a proud warrior. Perseus swings his curved sword in a quick series of swirling motions before it reverts to golden fire and coils into a bracelet on his right wrist. He then raises his left hand, the one encased in a golden gauntlet, and a large round shield grows forth from the wrist. It sinks back in after a minute. Lastly, he taps his belt buckle, shaped like an eight-pointed star, and three long throwing knives appear on his waist. He draws them and throws them in rapid succession at a rock nearby, splitting it into shards. Another tap of his buckle and the knives return to his waist, where he leaves them on display.

"I am also skilled in hand to hand combat, and spear work. Though I have yet to find a good spear for my strength. They all end up shattering."

I am shocked, and impressed, by the brief display of skills this young warrior has shown me.

"Where did you learn those skills?"

"From a few of your old students: Achilles, Odysseus, Theseus, Perseus, and Bellerophontes. Lord Hades was very kind, and allowed them to teach me their skills a few years ago. They left after I could best them all in their preferred forms of combat."

"You... you defeated five of the greatest heroes to ever live, with their own weapon styles?"

"They were trained by the greatest teacher to ever live; some of it must have rubbed off."

"Flattery will get you nowhere in life, Perseus."

"It was not flattery. Just a fact."

I can't help but smile at the praise. We approach the Blue House, and I can see Mr. D sitting at our usual table, playing pinochle with three invisible hands. As we step up onto the porch, he looks around to inspect the intruders on his match. His tiger-striped Hawaiian shirt hangs loosely on him, and his red nose is ruddier than usual; his game must be going badly. He turns his bloodshot blue eyes to look at Perseus, and his eyebrows shoot up into his curly purple-black hair.

"Well, well, if it isn't the Council's new _Golden Boy_." Dionysus drawls. The emphasis he puts on the words 'golden boy' must mean something to Perseus, because he stiffens for a moment before bowing.

"Lord Dionysus. It is a pleasure to see you again. I have a gift, from my father. I think he wanted me to try and bribe you into acting nicely." Perseus digs around in his backpack for a moment before pulling out a large green-glass bottle, stoppered with a cork and tied with a red ribbon. "Here we are. A bottle of 1921 Dom Peringon champagne."

I can see Dionysus start drooling at the sight of the bottle as he reaches for it. But Perseus pulls it back.

"He also said not to say anything about him, because he wants it to be a surprise. If you don't say anything, he said he'll make sure Zeus won't know about this one, whatever that means."

"Fine, fine, Patrick, I'll keep my trap shut. Just hand it over!"

"It's Perseus. And here you go." Perseus passes the bottle to Dionysus, who eagerly cradles it to his chest like a baby.

I have no idea who Perseus' father might be, but if he can keep Zeus from knowing about Dionysus breaking his sobriety then he must be pretty powerful. I think Mr. D must know who he is, or else he wouldn't have bothered promising not to say anything about him.

"Well, that was an interesting conversation, old friend. I'll just show Perseus the rest of camp, then."

Mr. D just waves us off, staring hungrily at the bottle in his hands.

I explain the setup of camp to Perseus, and while most new campers seem distraught at the somewhat strict security measures, he seems to really take it all in stride, as if he's prepared for it. Which he might be, seeing as how he was raised by a god not known for his generosity. Honestly, how the boy turned out so peaceful and kind being raised by Malcyrion is beyond me. As we approach the more populated areas of camp, Perseus starts to get some strange looks from the campers. It might be his golden outfit, which is still very bright in the direct sunlight. It might just be the sight of a new camper so obviously prepared for the life of a demigod. And unfortunately it might be, and most likely is, the fact that he is crippled and disfigured. When he reaches up to adjust his backpack strap I can't help but notice a few deep scars on the back of his hand. Now that he is walking right beside me, I can see that his necklace is actually a sprig of holly, held within a circle of gold.

"Where did you get that necklace, Perseus?"

"It was a birthday gift from my sister. Cut from her own tree."

"Her own tree...?"

"My sister Ilex is a dryad. She was adopted by my father when she was just a sapling."

"Perseus, if you don't mind me asking, how do you know your father at all? On Olympus Malcyrion said that you had no idea who your parent was, and that he had raised you."

Perseus rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. "That... wasn't Malcyrion. That was my father. He wanted to go in disguise before revealing me to the Council. Thought it would be funny."

I just shake my head. I'm older than most of the gods, so I know how immature they can be, but still.

"Ah. Well, here we are at the cabins." I gesture to the giant U shape the buildings make, in a mock setup of their own thrones. "Since you haven't been claimed yet, you will be staying in Hermes' cabin. Though hopefully your father will claim you soon; it is rather crowded in there."

I lead Perseus up the steps towards Hermes' cabin. The brown paint on the rickety building is starting to peel again, and the caduceus over the door has come askew. I sigh at the poor state of the cabin, but knock anyway. After a minute, I knock again, louder. I hear a crash, followed by a stream of high pitched laughter. The door bursts open and a pair of boys shoot out of the cabin, laughing and looking behind their shoulders. They barrel into me, and crash to the ground, before looking up to see what they've crashed into. The boy on the left has long, curly brown hair hanging over mischievous blue eyes and a crooked grin, before he realizes who it is he's hit, at which point it disappears into a nervous smile. The boy to my right is a mirror image of the one on my left, though he is a bit taller and lankier.

"Connor. Travis. Just the boys I wanted to see. This is Perseus, our newest arrival. He'll be staying with you for a while, until his father claims him. Hopefully it won't be more than few hours, at dinner."

The twins get to their feet and dust themselves off before holding out their hands for Perseus to shake.

"Hey, Perseus. Nice to meetcha', I'm Travis Stoll." The taller boy introduces himself, enthusiastically pumping Perseus' hand.

"Hey, I'm Connor Stoll." The shorter boy pulls Perseus into a quick hug before pulling back, smirking. I know what they're doing, but before I can scold them, Perseus speaks up.

"My bracelet and wallet will return to me in about five minutes no matter what, but if you two would like _your_ wallets back, I'd ask you to return them now." Perseus holds up his hand, which has a pair of wallets clutched in its grip, one black leather and the other a yellow Velcro with a caduceus on it.

"How-?"

"What-?

The Stoll brothers look shocked, and I can't help but chuckle. The pair hand over Perseus' golden chain bracelet and a black cloth wallet with a silver skull embroidered on it, still looking confused. Perseus rolls his eyes before handing over the wallets.

"Please. I've spent enough time with your father to notice when someone picks my pocket, thank you very much. Though that was a very nice variation on the Rio Watch Slip, Travis. I could barely feel you slipping my bracelet off. Your pinky twitched, that's what gave it away."

The brothers look towards Perseus, then back at each other, before looking back at the young demigod and breaking into large smiles.

"I can already tell we're going to be great friends." Travis says, laying his arm around Perseus' shoulders and steering him into the cabin.

"We'll get him settled in, Chiron. We'll see you at dinner, alright?" Connor asks, shooting the new demigod a bright smile.

Perseus breaks away from the pair for a moment to turn to me and bows again.

"Thank you for showing me around, Master Chiron. I will see you at dinner."

"Goodbye, Perseus." I wave and walk away, hearing the Stolls already plotting some new prank with the help of their new friend.

As I leave, Perseus speaks so softly I think I must imagine his voice saying, "Goodbye, uncle."

* * *

Dinner is loud and noisy, as is usual for the first few weeks of summer, when the new campers are still settling in. I look over the dining pavilion from the head table, and take in the scene of the twelve tables surrounding the central brazier. The view of the sea is very peaceful on top of the hill, and the sky is perfectly clear tonight. The nymphs have set out all of the food already, and most have retired to resting against the columns surrounding the pavilion, or sitting at the Dionysus table. I do a quick survey of the usual trouble-maker tables; the Ares table, covered in cuts and burns marring the tablecloth, where all the cabinmates are roaring in laughter, most likely at the story of some unfortunate warrior's downfall. The Apollo table is unusually silent today, the bright and cheerful children of the sun seeming oddly at peace; I'm not complaining, though. Aphrodite's table has almost no food on it, as all the available space is taken up by makeup containers, hair brushes, and romance novels. The children of the Love Goddess are huddled together, gossiping, most likely.

As my gaze shifts over Poseidon's table, I can't help the frown that crosses my face. There should only be one person sitting there, but once again Hercules feels that he should get special privileges. That second quest of his didn't help his ego, after all. I see Annabeth, her blond hair pulled into its perpetual ponytail, leaning against Hercules, fluttering her eyelashes in the most blatant attempt at flirting I've ever seen since Aphrodite went after Adonis. The other bench of the table is filled with Hercules' followers, mostly Ares campers who like his thickheaded nature and love of cruelty. And, of course, the only person _supposed _to be at the table, Hercules Christopoulos.

The son of Poseidon is very tall for his young age of fourteen, almost six feet. He is muscular, but in the bloated, slightly disturbing way. His skin is olive colored, showing his pure Greek heritage. His black hair looks greasy and hangs lank in his face. Eyes a dirty, muddy green are set into a thick face, with a large, square, cleft chin and boxy cheekbones. He is laughing loudly at something, probably a joke he told himself. I can't believe this excuse for a demigod shares the blood of Theseus and Bellerophontes. Honestly, Theseus was such a brilliant tactical genius Athena herself liked him enough to have a brainchild with him, and Bellerophontes managed to tame the immortal Pegasus and slay the Chimera barehanded.

Hercules, in comparison, couldn't plan his way out of an open box, and all pegasi hate him after he slapped one for bucking him off. And fighting-wise? He can barely hold his sword, _Riptide_, properly; that blade deserves much more than to be wielded by such a terrible hero. I still can't believe Poseidon gave it to him.

I look over to the only other occupied table of the Big Three. Thalia is sitting alone, picking at her food. The daughter of Zeus has her spiky black hair loose and hanging to her neck. She is wearing a black, studded leather punk jacket over her Camp Half-Blood t-shirt, and her thick silver bracelet glints faintly. If she were looking up I would see her electric blue eyes and the splash of freckles across her nose, but she is staring at her food. I sigh internally with sympathy for the poor girl.

Finally I turn my gaze towards the most chaotic of the tables. The Hermes table is overflowing, which is the norm. A plank of wood has been tacked onto one end, and five more seats have been added using crates, a stool and a stump. Even with the decidedly ugly additions there is no spare place to sit at the table.

As I think this a little girl, no more than eight and surprisingly small for her age, with curly brown hair and blue eyes slowly walks up to the table. There is nowhere to sit, and none of the others seem to notice her standing there. I remember her; Gwendolyn, but she likes Gwen better. Her mother passed a few weeks ago and she was brought in from the streets by a satyr today, which is why such a young demigod was at camp full time. Even from all the way back here I can see her eyes start to water. Before I can do anything, one of the campers sees her and stands up from his place on the end of the table.

I recognize Perseus; he has left his bow and bag at the cabin, and has swapped out his white shirt for an orange Camp Half-Blood one under his golden hoodie. He turns and crouches down to be on the same level as the girl, placing a hand on her shoulder and talking to her. She nods rapidly, still crying, though not as much. After a few more words are exchanged, she smiles up at him. He wipes the tears from her face before lifting her up and setting her in his recently vacated seat. He waves over a nymph, who brings a plate to the new arrival. Once the girl is smiling and eating, talking with her brothers and sisters, Perseus sinks to the floor by her seat, leaning against the table, balancing his plate on his knees.

I can't believe my eyes. That had to have been one of the kindest, most caring things I've seen in years, especially with how the demigods have been acting since Hercules showed up. Whoever his godly parent is, they have sired one of the most impressive demigods I've ever seen.

I keep my eyes on Perseus for the rest of the dinner. He stays on the floor, his stiff leg stretched out, barely eating. Every few minutes Gwen looks down at him, and he smiles up at her reassuringly. Finally, when there is no one else at the brazier, he slowly rises to his feet and walks over to the sacrificial flames. I can see him speak under his breath, but can't hear him. He scrapes all the food remaining on his plate into the fire, and I count _six_ plumes of colored smoke rising from the flames. Six? He sacrificed to six gods? I don't even bother to hide my curiosity as the boy returns to the ground next to the Hermes table.

Who is this intriguing young demigod? What is his story?

When it looks like most of the campers have finished eating, I rise to my feet -er, hooves.

"Campers." I announce loudly, instantly quieting the assembled demigods. Except for Hercules and his cronies, who keep on laughing like drunken donkeys.

"Campers, silence please!" I say louder. A few of them quiet down, but Hercules himself keeps on guffawing. Suddenly another voice rings out into the silence.

"Chiron is speaking, you deranged hyena. I think you should show a little respect for your elders."

Perseus' voice is soft, but carries well through the quiet area. Before Hercules can snap out a retort, I speak into the short opening.

"Once again, the day has come to an end, and we welcome to camp four new arrivals! First let us welcome Siobhan McLaughlin, daughter of Aphrodite." I gesture to Aphrodite's table, where a slim girl with braided brown hair, deep green eyes and a splash of freckles across her face stands and waves. The Blessing of Aphrodite is still affecting her, giving her a glamorous aura in her white dress.

"We also welcome Marcus Fairview, son of Apollo." A short boy with sandy blond hair stands up from Apollo's table, waving to the other campers. Apollo's claiming has left the boy with a deep, even tan, and his smile has a sunny glow to it.

"Gwendolyn Arietta, daughter of Hermes." The little girl looks self-conscious, until Perseus gently squeezes her shaking hand. She stands up and gives a halfhearted wave to the rest of camp.

"And finally, Perseus Jackson, as of yet unclaimed." Perseus gets to his feet, stumbling just a tiny bit on his stiff leg, before giving a brief wave. As he lowers himself to the ground again, I hear a snort from the Poseidon table.

"Probably hasn't been claimed yet because he's a cripple." Everyone turns to stare at Hercules, smirking stupidly. "Honestly, the guy's uglier than Hephaestus." I can see Charles Beckendorf, furious, try to get to his feet as he is literally held back by his siblings. Before he can say anything, Perseus speaks out again.

"Don't speak ill of Lord Hephaestus, boy. You'll be lucky to ever contribute half of a fraction of what he has given to the world in your pathetic life."

Hercules' face turns red as a few campers giggle, and the Hephaestus table looks over to Perseus in admiration and gratitude.

"You- you, do you have any idea who my father is, punk?" Hercules stutters.

"Punk? Seriously? That's the best you can do? Well, that crosses off any god good with words from the list."

"I am Hercules, son of Poseidon! I am the best hero to ever live!"

"Hmmph. I didn't see that coming. I thought you would end up being a son of Priapus, seeing as how you're acting like such a huge-" Before Perseus can finish his vulgar, though admittedly clever, sentence, a flash of sea green light floods the pavilion, and I catch a whiff of salty, sea breeze. When the light fades, Poseidon is standing in the center of the pavilion, right next to his table. I descend from the head table, Dionysus begrudgingly following me.

"Lord Poseidon, it is an honor. To what do we owe this unexpected visit?"

"He's here to smite that stupid cripple for insulting us, right dad?" Hercules steps up and stands at Poseidon's shoulder, grinning evilly at Perseus, who hasn't even acknowledged the Sea God's presence.

"No, actually, I'm not." Poseidon says slowly, glancing at his son as if in a new light. He walks over to the Hermes table, and sits down to be on the same level as Perseus.

"Lord Poseidon." He greets formally, if coldly.

Poseidon sighs loudly. "Perseus, I know how much you must hate me. But let me at least help you here. You wouldn't have a cabin if he claims you, you would be stuck in Hermes' tiny cabin like the child of a minor god. By Hades, most of these people don't even know who he is! Let me be your father, if it's only here. Please?"

I can't believe what Poseidon has just said: Perseus is his son? But he and Hercules are polar opposites! How can two people be so different, but be so closely related?

Perseus doesn't answer for a minute. When he does, it isn't an answer. "I've met your son, you know. You must be real proud. He takes after your other boy, Orion, very well."

Poseidon looks like he was just slapped; I know he doesn't like to be reminded of that particular son of his. "Dammit Perseus, I'm doing this whether you want me to or not!"

And with that Poseidon rises to his feet and holds out his hand. His trident appears in his grasp, and he slams it into the ground. Perseus is suddenly encased in a green light. His pale skin turns a deep wind-burnt tan, and his hair goes wild as if a strong breeze has blown through it. His eyes turn pure sea-green, matching Poseidon's in their brilliance and clarity. Lastly, a green hologram in the form of a trident appears over Perseus' head.

Poseidon steps back, looking smug. "All hail Perseus Jackson, son of Poseidon, the Earth-shaker, the Storm-bringer, the God of the Sea."

Perseus looks furious as he stands up, the trident still visible. He glares at Poseidon, before speaking softly. "I am no son of yours, Sea God. My father knew you'd pull something like this. So he waited for you to show up. He'll be here in right... about... NOW."

Suddenly we all see a bright golden light in the sky. A falling star glows brightly, getting slowly brighter as it gets closer and closer, finally getting so bright we all have to close our eyes. When the light fades, another god is standing in the pavilion. One I haven't seen in over two thousand years.

He is golden; golden hair, bronze skin, solid gold eyes. He is wearing a long robe of golden fabric, embroidered with images of battles won, heroes aided, foes slain and adventures had. His golden wings are angelic and beautiful, spreading at least ten feet from wingtip to wingtip. He looks coldly at Poseidon, who seems to shrink back from the golden god's gaze.

"Well, little brother, it seems that you still seem to think you have some claim to Percy." He waves his hand, and all signs of Poseidon's influence desert Perseus. "He is my son, not yours. I will claim him, not you." He points at Perseus and a beam of solid gold light connects his outstretched finger with Perseus' forehead. Perseus glows for a moment, before revealing a golden eight-pointed star hovering over his head. A pair of holographic golden wings spread forth from his back, smaller than his father's. His eyes glow pure gold, like tiny suns.

"All hail Perseus Jackson, son of Aurelius the Golden; God of Energy and Power, Precursor of Olympus, Balance of the Gods."

Perseus stands and walks over to Aurelius, and hugs him. "Thanks, dad."

"Any time, my boy. Now, I must be getting home. Ilex isn't feeling well."

"She shouldn't play in the snow without a coat. Still, give her my best." Aurelius smiles and ruffles Perseus' hair before disappearing in a flash of golden light. Poseidon is still standing there, looking uncomfortable. He turns to Perseus, still glowing with Aurelius' light. He sighs, then turns to me and Dionysus.

"He is to be given the same respect as Hercules. Anything that is mine shall be available to him, understood?"

"Yes, Lord Poseidon."

"Sure thing."

"But, _daaadd..._" Hercules whines to Poseidon. "I won't share anything with that loser. Look at him! He's a mockery of what it means to be a demigod!"

"ENOUGH!" Poseidon shouts at his son. "He will be given your respect, understood?"

Hercules just grumbles under his breath and sulks back over to his table. Poseidon gives one last look towards Perseus. "I'm sorry." He turns into a cloud of sea mist and vanishes. Perseus turns to match the assembled groups wide-eyed stares.

"Well, that was rather exhausting. I think I'll turn in now. Good night, everyone." He bows to the assembled campers and walks away from the dining pavilion. The entire area is silent for a moment, until we all hear the crack of Mr. D opening another can of Diet Coke.

"Well, that was interesting." He says with a smirk.

* * *

**Percy's POV**

That was easily the most embarrassing moment of my life. Still, I knew it would happen pretty much like that. Though Hercules was even more of a dick than I could have thought possible. As I walk away from the dining pavilion, I can hear the murmuring of the campers start up again. They're almost certainly talking about me.

I approach the horseshoe of cabins. I see that someone has already moved my stuff. My bag and bow are leaning up against the door of Cabin 3. There is no way in Hades I'm staying in the same building as that arrogant prick. I gather up my bow and my bag and walk out of the camp proper into the woods. I suppose that if I asked, Hermes or Apollo would let me stay in their cabins. Hera might even let me stay in hers, though I'd rather not bother the Queen of the Gods with something so petty. The woods around camp are very peaceful. I can set up my sleeping bag somewhere around here, if the nymphs don't mind.

After walking for around ten minutes, I stumble across a small clearing, set far enough away from the main body of camp that I'm sure no one will bother me. The area has a few trees in the actual clearing, and a small pond is fed by a large trickle, practically a waterfall, coming out of a split rock formation. I step into the clearing and set my bag down in the center.

"Hello? May I speak with the nymphs of this clearing?" I ask respectfully. After a few minutes of silence, I hear a sigh that could be mistaken for the breeze rustling through the trees.

"Another stupid demigod come to try and seduce us." Says a feminine voice akin to tree branches shaking.

"And this one isn't even that handsome." Says another, sounding like grass whispering in the breeze.

"At least he asked to speak with us nicely." A third voice, much like water trickling, says.

Two petite dryads step out of a willow tree and a juniper tree, while an unusually tall nereid climbs out of the pond. Having spent the past seven years of my life practically surrounded by nymphs, I'm a little surprised at their outfits. Nymphs usually wear little to no clothing, and what they do wear is usually made from their host plants, or their domain areas for nymphs not bound to trees. Apparently being around mortal campers for the past however-long-they've-been-here has influenced their dressing styles. Instead of wearing grass skirts and chains of flowers, like most of the dryads I've met, these two are dressed like teenagers. Both of them are wearing tank-tops, one blue and one green. The one with the green shirt is wearing a pair of cutoff jean shorts, and the one wearing the blue shirt is wearing a long white skirt. The nereid is wearing a navy blue one-piece bathing suit, which I admit is much more modest than the seashell bikinis most nereids wear.

The dryad with the green tank top steps forward. Her skin is a very pale nut-brown, and her green eyes partner with her long brunette hair nicely. "Who are you, demigod?"

I bow to the nymphs. "I am Perseus Jackson. Might I know whom I am addressing?"

The nereid giggles at that, and the nymph in front of me blushes green. "I'm Juniper. That's Willow." She gestures to the other dryad, whose skin is a slightly darker shade of brown but her eyes are brighter green. Her hair is braided with willow fronds. "And that is Lily." The nereid smiles and waves at me. Her skin is pale with a slightly blue tinge to it, her eyes are a deep clear blue, and her long hair is black and loose. As she waves I notice her hands are slightly webbed, and I can see the faint outlines of gills on her throat.

"What are you doing here than, Perseus?" Juniper asks, in a slightly kinder tone. "Please tell us you're not here to try and flirt with us. It's getting really old."

"While you three are indeed visions of beauty, no, sadly I am not here to flirt with you." All three blush at that.

"Good. Some of the others are getting out of control, to be honest. It's starting to get a little scary."

I frown at that; nymphs are pretty tough. What could the campers be doing to scare them?

"What's happening around here?"

Juniper looks at her feet, scuffing her heel in the dirt. "It's mostly that bastard of Poseidon's, Hercules. Him and his band of thugs keep trying to hit on us. Last week was the worst..." I see her shiver and hold her arms around her torso at the memory, and I instinctively pull her into a comforting hug.

"It's okay. You don't have to tell me, if you don't want to."

She looks shocked at the sudden contact, but after a second she leans into my hug. "It was Hercules. I was sitting on a stump, talking with a naiad who lives in a river a few miles from here. I heard a twig snap, and when I looked over there was Hercules. He and his little clique keep pestering us all to make out, and they've all been getting worse lately. I asked him what he wanted, and he grabbed my shoulders and tried to kiss me. I scratched his eyes and he dropped me, so I started running for my tree here. He started chasing me, and when I was just over that hill back there, I tripped on a rock. He grabbed me, and ripped my shirt off. He started to take his pants off, but I managed to kick him right between his legs. While he was doubled over I made it back to my tree. I didn't come out for three days." She has started sniffling.

I am furious- no, beyond furious. "What the hell is wrong with this place? Does Dionysus know what's happening to the nymphs under his protection around here? Or does that drunken bastard really care that little?"

"Why do you care, Perseus? Most demigods don't give a rat's ass about us. We're just the ones who serve the meals and keep the forest in good shape." Willow asks sadly.

"My father raised me to be honorable, and to care about what happens to others. The thought of people like that just walking around, with no repercussions coming, it makes me want to cut him to pieces where he stands." I growl. "I swear that that bastard will pay for that."

"Your father raised a good kid, then." Lily says after a brief pause. "Who is he?"

"Aurelius." The nymphs stiffen, and I swear I could hear a pin drop in the clearing. Juniper steps back from my hug looking at me nervously.

"Au-Aurelius the Golden?" Lily asks.

"The God of Power, Precursor of Olympus?" Willow asks, stunned.

"The King of Nymphs?" Juniper chokes out. Suddenly all three drop to their knees in a formal bow. "Your majesty," they all say.

"Um, what are you doing?" I ask, confused. "Are we talking about the same Aurelius here?"

Juniper looks at me confused. "Is your father a tall, golden man with wings and a calm, kindly nature that makes you happy just to be in the same room as him?"

"Yeah, that's a pretty good description, actually. But he's never mentioned being the King of Nymphs before. Are you sure?"

Willow walks forward and pulls me to the ground; soon we're all sitting. "You're his adopted son, am I correct?"

"Yes. Why?"

"Because King Aurelius swore to himself never to have another child or fall in love again after Her Majesty died two thousand years ago."

Here's a chance to learn about my father's past that I just can't pass up. "I've never heard his history before. Please, tell me the story."

Willow clears her throat, before starting her story.

"Two thousand years ago or so, there lived Flora, daughter of Demeter and Pan, Queen of the Nymphs. She was strange from birth; she was not an immortal like her godly parents, she was the purest incarnation of nymphhood, and shared our form of immortality. She was beautiful beyond compare, even more so than Aphrodite some say, with long, silver-green hair, pale silken skin and emerald eyes that held all the love of nature. She was wanted by every god who saw her, but she wished to save her maidenhood until she found her soul-mate. One day she was sleeping in a meadow, and Zeus in the form of an eagle saw her lying there, as beautiful as the sunrise. He swooped down, and was going to take her then and there. Flora awoke at the eagle's cry, and was terrified she was going to be ravaged by the King of the Gods. But before he could land, a lance of golden light struck him and knocked him out of the sky. Aurelius appeared in a rage, for he had seen what Zeus planned to do to Flora. He thoroughly thrashed Zeus, and sent him running home to Olympus dripping ichor. Aurelius took Flora to his palace, to hide her from the jealous eyes of his younger brother. For a year and a day she stayed as his honored guest. Throughout that time she fell in love with his compassion and honor, and he fell in love with her kindness and beautiful soul. When the year ended, they went to Hera, who married the pair herself.

For ten years they knew peace beyond measure, and their joy doubled when Flora found herself to be with child. But throughout all this time, Zeus kept his jealousy. When the time came for Flora to give birth, Zeus detained Eileithyia, the Goddess of Childbirth, and forced Thanatos, God of Death, to go in her stead, in disguise. By the time Aurelius realized the deception, it was too late. His wife was dead, and their child stillborn. Since Flora was a nymph, she had no true soul, and he couldn't get Hades to restore her. Their child was never really born, and so also bore no soul to be recovered. In his fury, Aurelius ripped Thanatos' wings off with his bare hands and scattered their pieces across the world. It took twenty years for him to recover his wings again. Aurelius stormed to Olympus, and took his revenge on Zeus."

"What did he do to him?" I ask.

"It depends on the tale. In some, he cut off one of Zeus'... you know." She gestures to her groin, and I can't help but wince. "In another, he stole Hera away and made her fall in love with him, stealing her heart away from him. In a third, he slew each and every child of Zeus to walk the world, even the immortal ones, and kept it up for eleven years and a day, for the amount of time he spent with Flora. To be honest, I think he did all three. But the end was still the same: he had lost the love of his life. He swore to himself he would never fall in love again, and that he would never father a child again, out of grief for the family ripped from him. Ever since, he has been the King of Nymphs, since he married our Queen, and we do everything we can to ease the pain he carries within his heart."

I sit in silence after hearing the story. This explains a lot, actually. The reason why there are so many nymphs around the palace, why my father always carries a slight air of sadness, the numerous references to something in my father's past that would keep him from having children. I shake my head of the memories.

"Alright then. But, why would you call me Your Majesty?"

Willow chuckles at me; probably at my stupidity. "You're his son. That makes you the Prince of Nymphs, dork."

"Fine. But please, don't call me Lord, or Sir or Your Majesty. I get enough of that crap in the Underworld. Just, call me Perseus. Please."

Juniper stands up and helps me to my feet. "Okay, Perseus it is. So, what are you doing here, anyway? Did you want to see us specifically?"

"Actually, I was hoping I could stay in this clearing. My, uh, _sire_ Poseidon says I am to stay in his cabin, but if I spend more than five minutes in the same room as that bastard Hercules I'll end up ripping his head off."

"Fair enough. Sure, I guess you can stay here."

"Of course he can!" Lily interjects. "He's our prince, isn't he? Come on, let's shape things up a little bit." The nereid raises her hands, and her pond overflows, washing away all the scattered forest debris in the clearing. Juniper shakes her head at Lily's actions, but also raises her hands. Willow joins in using her nature magic on the surrounding plant life.

When the nymphs are done, the clearing has changed. A small copse of branching trees near the pond has grown into an overhang, with plenty enough space for a bed underneath. A bush has twisted around to form a stack of shelves, and a fallen log has shifted into a sitting couch. A curtain of ivy surrounds a new waterfall, forming a private shower.

"We're not making you a bathroom. You can use the one in camp" Juniper says, smirking. I can't fight the slight heat that rises to my face, causing the nymphs to laugh in their delicate voices. I interrupt their giggling by pulling them into a group hug.

"Thank you for this kindness. I am grateful, truly, to not have to go back to that idiotic excuse for a hero's cabin."

The nymphs are all blushing now. Sometimes I forget that most of them, despite being hundreds of years old, still prefer to act like teenage girls. I walk over to the bush shelves, placing my bag on the top most shelf after pulling out my sleeping bag. I set my bow on top of the bush, then set out my sleeping bag under the overhanging branches. I crawl under the covers, and stare up at the few stars I can see through the patchy branches. The sounds of the woods fill the air, and act as a beautiful lullaby.

"Goodnight Juniper, goodnight Willow, goodnight Lily. Thank you again for this."

As I start to drift off I hear the nymphs respond softly together. "Goodnight, Perseus. Sweet dreams, oh Prince of Nymphs."

* * *

A beam of early morning sunlight hits my eyes and wakes me up. I'm too comfortable to get up, so I try and turn away from the light. As I turn I bump into something soft and warm, that wriggles when I come in contact with it. I open my eyes to stare into the face of a sleeping Lily, who has curled up next to me, still sleeping peacefully. Since, oddly enough, this is not the first time I've ever woken up to find a random nymph sleeping next to me (they're weird creatures), I don't panic. That's not to say I don't almost yell out, but I manage to hold it in. Instead, I gently reach out and shake her shoulder.

"Lily. Lily, wake up." I say, softly but firmly. The nereid wakes up slowly, blinking her brilliant sapphire eyes until they focus on me. Her eyes widen instantly, and she blushes an almost purple shade of deep blue. "Oh gods! I-I thought I'd wake up before you did and leave... I'm so sorry! Please, don't hate me!" She stumbles away from me as she is speaking, and stands nervously outside of the overhang. I slowly stretch myself out, and stand up to approach her.

"I don't hate you, Lily. But would you mind explaining to me exactly what you were doing?"

"Um..." She stares at her bare feet, drawing a line in the dirt with her toe. "You were just so nice yesterday, and you look so cute when you're sleeping, and I just wanted to cuddle against you, and I really planned to leave before you woke up, and now you're going to make fun of me and tell Juniper and Willow, and I'll _never_ live that down, and-"

"Lily. Stop." I cut off her rambling. "Where are Juniper and Willow now?"

"They went off to tell all the nymphs that our prince is here." She says miserably, avoiding my gaze.

I sigh, and walk forward until I'm not three inches away from her. I gently take hold of her chin and raise her head to look me in the eyes.

"Lily. I'm not angry, I don't hate you, and I won't tell Juniper or Willow."

"Why not? I mean, it was kind of rude... and creepy, I mean, I acted like freaking a stalker! How are you being so cool? Hell, _why_ are you being so nice?"

"Because you didn't mean any harm, did you? No harm, no foul, I believe the mortals say. I might be a little rusty in that department, I admit. You didn't hurt me, you weren't trying to make me uncomfortable or unhappy, so there's nothing wrong. And I won't tell Juniper or Willow; I know how long nymphs can hold on to a good piece of blackmail, trust me. Are we good?"

Lily doesn't answer. She just steps forward and hugs me tightly, tucking her head against mine. Dammit, why am I so short? After two minutes or so, she pulls away.

"Feel better?" I ask kindly.

She nods, then grabs my face with her soft, webbed hands. Before I can say anything, she pecks her head forward and kisses me. I stiffen, before I feel myself softly kissing her back, gently placing my hands on her hips. It's not a passionate kiss or anything like that; just a nice, innocent, pleasant kiss. Her lips are as soft as beach sand, and when she pulls away after a moment my lips taste of sea salt.

"Wh-what was that for?" I ask incredulously.

"For being the nicest demigod I've ever met." Lily says sheepishly, her cheeks violet again with her blush. Before I can respond she dashes off into the forest, most likely to help spread the word that the Nymph Prince is in Camp Half-Blood.

I shake my head loose from the realization I just had my first kiss stolen by a sweet, pretty nereid named Lily, and head towards my new waterfall/shower.

After washing up I put on another orange t-shirt under my bronze hoodie, and a pair of tan khaki pants; it's warm out, but the temperature never bothers me. I think it's due to wearing a deathly cold crown for so long. Besides, I never wear shorts or leave my arms uncovered. Too many scars show...

Judging by the amount of light, it's almost eight o'clock. I should start heading for camp. If I run as fast as I can, I'd be there in the blink of an eye. But I decide to walk instead, learning the path to my clearing. When I can see the camp through the last few trees, I step out of the woods only to have a large cloud of flowers and grass confetti thrown over me.

"Hail Prince Perseus!" A few dozen nymphs chorus, smiling at me and laughing as they dance around me. "Hail Perseus, the Prince of Nymphs!" I'm sure my cheeks are burning hot enough to ignite the flowers drifting through the air as they settle against my skin. I can see a few campers staring at the spectacle, some laughing while others look more curious. After a few minutes, I manage to convince the nymphs to let me pass. They all insist on hugging me, though. I never realized how big nymphs were on the whole displays of affection thing. I ignore the chortles of campers as I make my way to the Big House.

Chiron is on the deck with that daughter of Athena I met at the solstice meeting. What was her name, Annie? Ann? Annabeth! That's it. He appears to be scolding her, and I can hear his frustration as she looks at the ground.

"-I know that your mother would be outraged at your behavior right now, Annabeth. Anyone can see what kind of a person he is. Honestly it's men like him that give Artemis' Hunters a reason to exist in the first place! Please, think about what I've said, okay dear?"

Annabeth just nods glumly, brushing past my shoulder as she walks away. The immortal centaur sighs and looks up at me before a small grin spreads across his tired features.

"Hello Perseus. I was afraid you'd run off last night. No one could find you, and you weren't in the Poseidon Cabin."

"Poseidon isn't my father, so it made no sense to stay in his cabin, Master Chiron." I explain calmly.

"Please, don't call me master. It's just Chiron. Now, where were you last night?"

"I was staying in a clearing in the woods. A trio of nymphs let me stay in their area, and gave me a shelter for as long as I desire. Which leads me to a discussion I must have with you."

"And what is that?" His voice has become more guarded at my accusation near the end of my speech.

"Hercules. I heard from my dryad friend Juniper that he tried to rape her last week. Why does he still draw breath?"

The centaur sighs and looks away ashamed. "I wanted to kick him out of camp. Honestly, even Dionysus wanted to turn him into a mad dolphin and feed him to a shark. But Lord Poseidon stepped in and demanded we look the other way for just this once. He had a conversation with him, but I am sure it did very little. If it happens again we have permission to toss him from the camp."

My hatred for Poseidon has been rekindled tenfold. "If it happens again, I'll kill him. No one touches my nymphs."

Chiron raises a bushy eyebrow. "Your nymphs?"

I flush a little, but hold my ground. "Yes, _my_ nymphs. I am the Prince of Nymphs, and they are my subjects. I just wanted it to be known that they need to be treated better. You hear that Poseidon? If your bastard of a son tries that again I'll have his head!" I say loudly to the sky. The perfectly calm sky darkens immediately as a storm brews over the weather shield surrounding camp. I scoff at the childish display of power before turning back to Chiron, who has an amused look on his face.

"Other than that, I wanted to know what I should be doing."

"Well... you are your own cabin, since Aurelius does deserve his own. You are the only one in the Aurelius Cabin, so I'm sure that you could join in on any activity that peaks your interest. Breakfast is in about ten minutes, you'll hear the conch horn. Lunch and dinner are at noon and six, respectively. Between then, find something to occupy yourself, I suppose."

"Alright, Chiron. I guess I'll see you later."

I walk away from the centaur and meander around the campgrounds. I decide to just head to the dining pavilion, and take a look at all the different buildings on my way there. As I walk along the path, I can still hear a few of the campers laughing at my welcome by the nymphs. I can't blame the nymphs, though. They mean well.

Suddenly I feel a surge of power from my right. I can't control power and energy like my father (it's too dangerous a power to give to a demigod), but he gave me the ability to sense it wherever I go. And I just felt a huge surge of it from the patch of trees off the trail. I quietly make my way over to where the surge came from, and I can smell... ozone? Walking even closer I suddenly hear voices.

"Aww come on Thalia. You're Zeus' kid aren't you? Don't you just want to jump everything that breathes?" I recognize the voice. It's arrogant, slow and dimwitted. Hercules.

"Leave me the fuck alone, you prick!" A female voice retorts. She sounds furious, but also a tiny bit afraid. I can tell the power came from her. I peak from behind a bush, and feel a cold fury settle in my stomach.

A 14 or 15 year old girl -Thalia, I assume- is backed up against a tree, holding a long spear crackling with electricity. She has spiky black hair and startling blue eyes, set above a freckled button nose. Hercules is standing in front of her, just out of reach of her spear. Two other guys are lying on the ground; one has his hair in a halo of outstretched strands, like he just got electrocuted. The other has a deep gash in his shoulder and a large bruise forming on his temple.

"What's stopping you, tree-whore? Still want that traitor boyfriend of yours? Well, you know, he hurt me pretty badly when he left. And since he isn't here anymore, it looks like you're gonna have to kiss it better for him." He taps part of his thigh, where I assume the wound is.

"I said get lost, you freak. I don't want anything to do with you." Thalia straightens her grip on her spear.

I can't take this anymore. Before Hercules can respond, I will my sandals to sprout their wings, and dash forward as fast as I can.

* * *

**Thalia's POV**

Why can't this idiot take a hint? He pulls me off of the path into the trees, then tries to make a move. I respond by electrocuting his friend there, and stabbing the other one in the shoulder before swinging my spear at his head. And yet, he still keeps coming. And as much as I hate to admit it, I'm a little worried. Hercules is big, really big. His shoes are rubber soled, grounding him, making my lightning a little less effective. He's also strong enough to really mess me up if I'm not careful.

It looks like he's finally had enough after my last refusal. He snarls at me, then takes a menacing step forward. Before I can even raise my spear to strike, I see a blur of gold coming from my right. It slams into Hercules hard enough to send him flying into another tree. The blur skids to a stop, revealing the boy claimed by Aurelius last night. His golden hoodie clashes with the flaming black crown on his head, but they both look amazing. I can see him better than I could last night, so I use the opportunity to study him.

His skin is a pale tan, like he should be darker but has spent a lot of time out of the sun. His hair is short and jet black, settled under his flaming coronet. He looks like he would be very handsome, if not for the two large scars on his face and his messed up nose. His eyes are golden, with a strip of sea-green surrounding the gold. His mouth is curled into a sneer at the fallen son of Poseidon.

"Well, well, well, looks like I get a chance to beat the hell out of you even sooner than I could have hoped." His voice is quiet, but full of anger. Hercules staggers to his feet, his nose bleeding.

"You... you're that stupid punk Perseus my dad says is my brother! There's no way I'm related to a crippled idiot like you."

"Feeling's mutual. Now, leave now before I kill you."

"No way, this traitor bitch needs to be taught a lesson. Get out of here, co cry back to your fruity golden daddy."

Perseus loses all pretense of manners. Before I can register what's happened he's shot forward and has Hercules off the ground, his right hand wrapped around the jackass' neck.

"I said leave." He hisses. "Now. Before I snap your neck like a gods-damned pencil."

He hurls Hercules back towards the main camp, and the arrogant bastard goes flying at least a hundred feet, leaving me alone with this incredibly powerful demigod... who happens to be staring at me intently. Oh shit.

"Um... Back off! I-I don't want to hurt you!" Like I could. He just thoroughly smacked the crap out of the most powerful demigod in camp. While trying to steady myself I only end up falling on my butt. Way to go, Thalia.

"Are you alright, miss?" He asks calmly.

"Um... yeah. Thanks for saving me, I guess. Who... are you again? Sorry, I just don't really remember you."

"It's fine. I'm Perseus, son of Aurelius. You're Thalia, correct?"

"Yeah. How'd you do that anyway? You moved so fast you were a blur."

"My father was very generous with his gifts." He replies simply. "Were you headed for the dining pavilion?" He offers his hand, and gently helps me to my feet. Once I'm standing I take my hand back and rub my arm in discomfort at the situation.

"Yeah, I was until that pigheaded creep pulled me into the trees here."

"Then may I escort you the rest of the way? I would not be much of a gentleman if I just left after helping you."

I blush, and I'm not sure if it's out of anger that he thinks I need his help, or embarrassment at the fact that I kind of did.

"Sure."

We walk out of the woods and back onto the trail. I can see a small crater where I assume Hercules landed, and I can't help the large grin that spreads on my face. When we arrive at the pavilion, I start towards my table when a horde of nymphs crowd around Perseus. They're all giggling and hugging him, if they're close enough. He finally manages to get through them, and they leave to resume serving the campers, giggling over their shoulders at the furiously blushing boy.

"So... what was that about?" I ask, curiously.

He sighs. "My father is King of Nymphs, so I'm technically... the Prince of Nymphs." He grumbles under his breath. "Ever since they found out who I am they keep doing stuff like that."

I can't hold back the laughter that comes pouring from my lips. "That's just awesome. Well, thanks for the help, I guess... See ya' later."

I settle in at my table with a plate of waffles, staring at my food. The slight good mood I was just in at Perseus' expense has faded at seeing the mixed glares the other campers are sending me. Some are hate filled, from the campers who think I'm a traitor spy like- like... Luke. My throat tightens at the thought of my old friend. Others are full of envy; mostly from those who are jealous of my lightning powers, or of me being Zeus' daughter. Like it's such an honor; the only thing it's gotten me is chased by monsters and seven years in a tree. While lost in my own thoughts, I feel a presence settle on the bench opposite me. Assuming it's Hercules again, I scowl and look up into the golden eyes of Perseus.

"You looked lonely. Would you care for some company?" He asks sincerely.

"That would be nice. But my dad probably wouldn't approve of someone not his sitting at his table." I warn him. He just chuckles softly.

"I'll take my chances." He smiles at me, and I can't help but smile back.

We talk for the entirety of breakfast.

I learn about his life since he was adopted by the God of Power; his training, both in combat and education, under Aurelius; his sister Ilex (it sounds like I'd like her); meeting our Uncle Hades, though I doubt he'd let me call him uncle; his time spent helping Hermes deliver packages; training with Apollo; all the adventures he's had since he was seven. Though he doesn't want to talk about his life before being adopted by Aurelius. I don't pressure him.

In turn, I tell him about my life. My mother, a fading TV actress, who caught the attention of Zeus. How my mother was an abusive alcoholic, who often remarked that she wished I was never born. Running away at nine and being found by... Luke. Us traveling for three years before we found Annabeth, and headed for camp after Grover found us. Then about being turned into a tree for seven years by Zeus, who was trying to 'save' me from the legion of monsters chasing us.

"Yeah, not much to tell after that. I only came out of the tree eight days ago, and I've been trying to adjust to the world. It hasn't really been easy." I admit. I'm staring down again, before I feel a warm, strong hand reach over to grasp mine comfortingly. Perseus looks at me in sympathy, but not pity, for which I'm grateful.

"You have had a tough life. But the past is past, and can only hurt us if we let it. We must always look to the future, for it is only there that we can find happiness." He says softly.

"Wow. Where did that come form?"

"It is what my father told me, many years ago, when I suffered from terrible nightmares. It helped me then, and I hope it can help you now."

"It does." I say, using my free hand to try and wipe away some tears before they fall. Breakfast is over, so we get up to leave. On our way out someone steps in front of us. I stifle a groan at the sight of Hercules. He glares at me, but turns to Perseus instead. I can't help but feel a sense of satisfaction at the sight of his scraped and bloody face.

"You got lucky earlier, cripple. In a real fight I'd destroy you! And your bitch girlfriend."

"Care to test that theory?" Perseus asks calmly. He protectively places his arm around me, and instead of annoyance at the possessive action, I feel comforted by the weight of his gold encased hand on my shoulder. "Perhaps a one-on-one battle? All weapons and powers allowed?"

Hercules looks shocked someone would so blatantly challenge him. "Swordfighting Arena. Fifteen minutes. Don't chicken out." He growls before storming off.

"This will be fun." Perseus says, smirking.

"You didn't have to do that." I say as we walk forward, his arm still around me. "He may be a pompous asshole, but he's the strongest demigod in camp. He could beat the stuffing out of you if you're not careful."

"He can't hurt me. I say that not out of arrogance, but fact. He literally can't hurt me." He just smirks at my look of confusion. "Plus, he insulted my family. No one insults my family."

"Oh yeah, he said something bad about your father, didn't he?"

"Yes. He also insulted and harassed my cousin, which I will not stand for."

It takes me a minute to remember when a cousin of his would be insulted by Hercules, when it hits me. "Me? You barely know me, why would you care what he says to me?"

"Because you are my family, and I would do anything for family."

I'm touched by his concern. He removes his hand from my shoulder, but before I can even register the loss of the comforting presence he takes my hand and starts to lead me towards the arena.

"Come on. We don't want to be late, else the big baby might run off."

I chuckle at that. Word spreads fast around here, so I'm not very surprised that a crowd has appeared to fill the stands of the arena. I can see Hercules standing with his little group of thugs, getting ready for the fight. He is piling on armor, and making some comment that causes the others to break out laughing nastily. I can't help but feel saddened to see Annabeth laughing right along with them, leaning on Hercules' shoulder. Does she even know how much of a bastard he really is?

I get nervous when I see Mr. D enter the arena, worried he might call off the fight. But he just shoots a small smirk at Perseus, before scowling at Hercules. He summons a tall backed chair covered in grape vines in an empty space in the stands, and settles in to watch the fight. Percy just walks over to where a few Hermes campers are settled in. He stops before the twin head councilors of the cabin.

"Connor, Travis. What are the numbers?" He asks.

"We've all agreed upon there being a 20 to 1 chance of him knocking you out in five minutes. But there are a few nymphs who have betted very favorably upon you winning, so there's that."

Perseus nods as if the news isn't unexpected. "Good. I'll put thirty drachma on myself." He pulls out a black cloth wallet with a silver skull on it and reaches into it. He pulls out a handful of gold coins and presses them into the Stolls' waiting hands. "Hey, can I ask a favor? This is my cousin Thalia. Keep an eye on her, alright?" The twins nod, and I sit down in the crowd of Hermes campers. Perseus grins at me, then starts down the steps towards the arena.

"Good luck, Percy!" I call out to him. I realize he might not like having a nickname, but he just waves back to me. I see him enter the arena, and stand at one end. He isn't getting any weapons out, or putting on any armor. What is he thinking?...

* * *

**Percy's POV**

I'm a little surprised it doesn't bother me when Thalia called me Percy. I've only known her for the past hour or so. But she seems like such a nice girl, and I feel kind of sorry for her. I'm not blind; I can see how the rest of the camp treats her.

I shake my head to focus on my 'opponent', who is currently strapping on enough armor to make it almost impossible to move. When he's done, that girl Annabeth pecks him on the cheek before he slams his helmet down over his head, brushing her aside. Seems I was wrong about that girl. She looked intelligent enough when we first met, but if she's fawning over that idiot then she's definitely not as bright as I expected.

Hercules marches over until we are both facing each other on either side of the arena's sand floor. Dionysus stands from his impromptu throne and addresses us.

"So, it looks like Perry Johannes and Hershey Christopherson here want to fight for some stupid reason or another. I'm not sure why, but it'll be exciting and I'm bored. So name the rules, Peter." The God of Wine drones.

"The battle is to surrender. All weapons and all godly gifts and abilities are fair game." I say calmly, just loud enough to have my voice carry to him.

"Do you accept the terms, Harry?" Dionysus asks Hercules. The son of Poseidon turns red in anger at Dionysus' tone, but nods fiercely.

"Good. Begin!"

Hercules reaches into his pocket and pulls out a pen. When he clicks the pen, it elongates into a three foot long celestial bronze Grecian longsword. Most people think that magical weapons are never changing, supposed to be indestructible and eternally ready for use, but they're wrong. A magical weapon is a reflection of its' wielder's soul. That's why evil guys always seem to have awesome and dangerous looking weapons. Just by looking at the state of the sword he's holding, I feel bad for it, and know that Hercules is just as terrible as I thought. The blade is dull and grimy, pitted and cracked. The crossguard is actually drooping, like it's melting. The leather wrapped around the handle is decaying and falling off. My keen vision picks out a string of characters spelling out _Anaklusmos_ on the blade.

Riptide.

Not surprising for a son of Poseidon, but feeling the energy within the blade I can tell the sword is ancient, and is made form energies similar to that of Pleione, ancient goddess of the sea. This sword is a pure and honorable weapon, and Hercules doesn't deserve to wield it.

"How about we make this a little more interesting?" I ask Hercules as he approaches.

"What, want to back out already?" He mocks.

"No. If I win, I get your sword. If you win, you get mine." I hold out my right hand, and _Honor_ swirls into my hand in a flash of golden fire. As I grew, so did my sword. The khopesh's blade is longer now, approaching three feet. The handle is now long enough to grasp with both hands if I wished, but the sword is still light enough to use with one hand.

"What do you say?" I ask mockingly.

"I'll snap your bent-up sword over my knee when I win it." Hercules snarls as he rushes me, officially starting the battle.

I easily sidestep him, twirling out of the way so he goes flying past me.

"Ole!" I can't help but shout, bringing a burst of laughter from the stands. Hercules growls and tries to do a quick turn, but his heavy armor slows him down. I dash forward without using the sandals, just my natural speed; which is still pretty quick, admittedly. I knock my shoulder into him, sending him sprawling. He awkwardly gets up, then tears off the outer layer of armor to give him some more mobility. He runs at me again, swinging his sword like an idiot. I don't even bother parrying the blows; I just duck and dodge the wild strikes. He's getting angry, and his strikes are becoming even more unpredictably pathetic. Finally I hit his sword with mine, jerking it out of his grasp. Riptide clutters to the floor. I don't press my advantage; I just gesture to his fallen sword.

"Pick it up. We're not done yet."

He growls at me, and picks up his sword. He rushes at me, and aims a strike at my head. I don't move, and just when the blade is about to strike my temple, I raise _Honor_ as fast as a bullet, and Riptide slides along the curved edge of my sword to hit Hercules' hip. He howls in pain as the edge of the sword buried itself into the band of muscle just above his waist. Hercules yanks Riptide free, stepping back warily, favoring his injured side. I decide I'm done playing now. I rush him, and start hammering away with _Honor_'s outer edge. He can't even begin to block half of my blows, and soon he is covered in red lines dripping blood- I know how to pull my punches enough not to kill him. He staggers backwards, and finds his back against the wall of the arena. Suddenly he smirks at me.

"Well, here's something I know I can do to beat you, you stupid cripple." Hercules dives to the side to avoid my overhand chop, landing in a trough of water. He surfaces grinning and dry, his wounds already on the mend. He pushes his hands forward, and a weak wall of water surges towards me. I scoff, and flick my left hand. The water splits around me, leaving me completely dry as the wave crashes into a large puddle surrounding the two of us.

"You want to use powers now, eh boy? Well, let me show you what you _should_ be able to do, if you weren't such an arrogant asshole."

I raise both of my hands, and the water surrounding us starts to swirl and gather around me as I feel a tug in my stomach. Soon the crashing, twisting waves form a column of rapid water beneath me, lifting me at least ten feet in the air. I stare down at Hercules, who is trembling on the arena floor. I jump off of the tower of water, and plummet to the ground. I stomp when I land, forcing both feet a few inches into the ground, sending off a shockwave of small earthquakes, raising parts of the ground and lowering others, knocking Hercules to the floor. When the water tower collapses I lift myself up, floating above the flooded arena floor with my sandals, as I hover above Hercules groaning frame. I kneel down in mid-air, holding _Honor_'s edge to his throat.

"Do you yield? Please say no, I really like beating you up."

"Fine... you win, you... bastard." He coughs out. I reach down and pry Riptide form his numb fingers. As if accepting a new owner, the sword returns to pen form. I click it, and the sword that springs forth is not the pitiful weapon Hercules wielded not five minutes ago. The metal is now highly polished and flawless, the razor edge gleaming in the light. _Anaklusmos_ is pronounced loudly and proudly along the blade's groove. The crossguard is straight and proud, the handle wrapped tightly in sturdy brown leather. I click a small button on the pommel, and the sword reverts to pen form. I slip it in my pocket, and walk back towards the stands. They're speechless for a moment, but suddenly they all burst out cheering.

I get swarmed by people, and see a large group advance on the Stoll brothers, and I don't need to be close to see all the money changing hands right now. Thalia forces her way through the crowd, and manages to find her way before me, grinning like a fool.

"That was awesome! Oh gods, you were incredible, did he even land a single hit on you?"

"No, he was too busy waving his sword around like a toddler to really try and hit me. Did you enjoy the show?"

"Of course I did. I've wanted to see that jackass get what he deserves ever since I met him." She comes closer and gives me a hug, which I return after a surprised moment. Taking in all the surrounding cheers of the campers, my new popularity with the nymphs, and my new friend Thalia, I'm pretty sure I'm gonna like it here.

* * *

**(5 Months Later)**

I carefully pick up a tiny golden gear, and gently slot it into the mass of wires, gears and rune-engraved metal on the bench before me. I look up for conformation that I've put the pieces together correctly, and Beckendorf gives me a nod of approval. The Hephaestus cabin took a great liking to me after I defended their father my first night here. I use a lot of my pretty much blank schedule to spend time learning how to make things with them. And Charles Beckendorf, the cabin leader, is a really nice guy. Over the past five months I'd like to say we've become friends.

Since my rather eventful first few days, I've fallen into a pretty nice schedule here. I wake up at 7 o'clock in my clearing, sometimes having to move Lily, who still occasionally curls up next to me while I'm sleeping (as I said before, nymphs are weird). I shower and get dressed, then eat breakfast with Thalia. We eat together at all meals, actually. I can say without a doubt she's my best friend, after spending five months hanging out together. Actually... I kind of have a crush on her. It might be wishful thinking, but I think she might feel the same way. She's so incredible; she's smart, nice, bad-ass, pretty, everything someone could ever want.

In the mornings after breakfast I'll train in the arena, sparring with anyone who wants to. That's how I met Clarisse La Rue, a daughter of Ares. She's a lot more intelligent than I could ever expect a child of that particular god to be, and she's a very skilled warrior. From what she's said, she actually played a big role in the quest to reclaim the Golden Fleece, but Hercules stole most of her thunder. I like her; she's feisty, a lot like Thalia. Though Clarisse isn't above trying to beat the snot out of me if I say something she doesn't agree with. After sword training, I'll hit the archery range. There I made another friend in Will Solace, son of Apollo. He looks a lot like the pretty-boy form the Sun God takes whenever we hang out. He's pretty nice. Then lunch rolls along, and after that I'll usually come to 'Arts & Crafts'. Though why they gave a building housing an industrial furnace and enough raw materials to make an entire army of automatons the 'Arts & Crafts' building is beyond me. That's where I am now, building an automaton under the helpful eye of the Hephaestus cabin.

"I think that should do it." Beckendorf says in his deep bass grumble. "It just needs to be set in its casing."

"Great. I've been working on this damned thing for three months; about time it's done." I reply, happy to be finally done with it. I carefully pick up the inner mechanics of my automaton and gently place them within the frame I constructed earlier. The frame was the easy part; crafting all the feathers out of gold and silver. There is some cobalt, treated to bring out the blue color. Some oxidized copper, polished to shine while remaining green as well. The eyes made out of polished amber, shone enough to sparkle. I affix the mechanism into the metal frame, and retighten the metal skin to hide the openings. When the machine is completely done, I take a step back and look over my work with pride.

Sitting on the cluttered workbench is a mechanical peacock.

It's smaller than a real one, only about a half-foot long, with another foot for its tail feathers. The main body is gold and silver, with the tail feathers having the oxidized copper and cobalt, almost matching a real peacock in color. There is some color around the wings and neck, to give it definition. I wake the creature up by stroking its platinum beak. Brilliant spheres of amber blink open, and the tiny mechanical bird chirps out a greeting. I pick him up, and thank Beckendorf for all his help before setting off.

I approach Cabin 2 in the great circle of cabins.

Hera's Cabin.

I carefully open the door and enter the temple-esque cabin. Since Hera has no children, there are no beds around. The only things in the room are a large statue of Hera, looking distant and coldly beautiful, and a large brazier in front of the statue. I carefully approach the sacrificial flame and kneel before it.

"Lady Hera, Queen of Olympus, it is your nephew, Perseus. I wish to thank you for the kindness you showed to me during the council meeting last December. I have been sacrificing to you along with the rest of my family, but I thought..." I lick my lips, nervous to actually voice my thoughts aloud. "I realized that you have never had a demigod child, and that many demigods fear you for some reason. I realized you probably have never received a proper sacrifice. And so, to voice my thanks and to show my appreciation, I offer to you a golden peacock, your sacred animal." I lower my automaton into the flames gently, before pulling my hands back. Instead of burning or melting, the peacock vanishes in a soft glow of white light. I smile; the sacrifice has been accepted.

"That was very kind of you, Percy." A feminine voice says.

I look up and lock eyes with the hazel orbs of Queen Hera, who is perched on the rim of the suddenly dark brazier. She has taken a more mortal form today, as opposed to her obviously divine form at the council meeting. She is wearing a loose white sleeveless tunic over a pair of jeans that reach to just below her knees. She is wearing the same sandals as at the meeting, which wrap up to her knees. The same golden bands circle her biceps, and a few bracelets hang from her wrists. Her chocolate brown hair is loose around her shoulders today, but still has a golden ribbon tied into it. She is holding my peacock to her chest like a child.

"Tell me, what is such a generous gesture for?" She asks softly, stroking the automaton's metal feathers.

"For the kindness you showed me last December." I explain, then blush a little. "You were just so... kind, and motherly. I wanted to show my thanks."

Hera smiles at me. "You seemed so sad and lost there. It felt good to be able, at least for a little while, to act like a real mother."

"What do you mean? Don't you have children of your own, Lady Hera?"

Hera sighs sadly. "I have _godly_ children. They grow to adulthood in a matter of months. Their childhoods only lasted a few days, so I had no real chance to be a mother. I'm a lousy one, anyway." Hera slides off the brazier to sit against the edge of it on the floor. I resettle myself, sitting with my legs curled underneath me a few inches across from her.

"You have such a caring nature, though. You seem like you'd be a wonderful mother."

Hera scoffs, petting the mechanical peacock softly. "My children all hate me. Enyo and Ares turned out to be monsters, I can't even look at them anymore. Eileithyia, Hebe and Hephaestus all hate me, and with good reason. I'm the Goddess of Family, and mine all hate me."

I am shocked to see the Queen of the Gods breaking down like this. I don't really think about what I'm doing, but I suddenly find myself sitting besides the goddess, rubbing her back like she did for me when I was upset at the meeting.

"You're their mother, I doubt they really hate you." I say softly, trying to help calm her.

"Yes they do. And they have every reason to." Hera sniffs out, clutching the peacock close to her chest. "I didn't protect them, like a mother is supposed to do. I just stood aside when Zeus forced Hebe to marry that monster Heracles. I never threw Hephaestus off of Olympus either, did you know that? Zeus did that; he refused to believe he could father something so ugly. But I didn't stop him from tossing my baby boy off the mountain. Eileithyia was my favorite daughter, but one day I... I just lost it. I yelled at her, horribly, for constantly letting Zeus' demigods be born. She was a lonely goddess, and I was the only one she really loved, and I said such horrible things to her for just doing her job." Hera starts to cry softly, silent sobs making her shoulders shake. I pull her into a hug, and she keeps softly crying into my shirt. I toss the thoughts that point out how insanely absurd it is that I'm comforting a crying goddess. Eventually she manages to stop crying, and leans back against the brazier, and she gives me a grateful smile.

"Thank you Percy. For being so supportive, for the peacock, for the offerings... for everything. No one has sacrificed to me since Jason, all those years ago."

"You are deserving of offerings, Lady Hera. You're so different than what many of the myths portray you to be. According to them, you're a heartless monster who goes around killing demigods for being born out of wedlock by your cheating husband."

Hera looks saddened once more. "They're right. I... I have done terrible things to demigods over the years. It's just... I'm the Goddess of Marriage. I'm the one who is the most faithful of all the gods, the one who will never stray. And my husband has more illegitimate children than any other god in history. Over half the Olympian Council is made up of his children, and only two of them are mine. It just gets to me, after a while..."

"But why punish the demigods?" I ask.

"What do you mean?"

"I do not think that the demigods wish to be born into a world where their scent will draw monsters to them without pause. I do not believe that they would choose to be born to a godly parent who, no offense, is the lousiest parent on Olympus. The demigods don't choose to be born to a cheating god. Why punish them for it?"

Hera stares at her lap. "I know that, deep down. I really do. But after so many thousands of years of cheating... I just can't stand seeing his bastards walking around, like there are no repercussions for his cheating. I feel like it might be because of me. Am I the reason he keeps looking for other women? Am I not good enough?"

I think I may be hanging around Thalia and Clarisse too much, because what I do next is classic them:

I slap Hera.

Just enough to get her attention, of course. Before she can even register what I did I gently but firmly take hold of her shoulders and make her face me.

"Don't think like that, okay? Don't ever think like that. Zeus is the one who is to blame here, not you. He is the cheating bastard who doesn't realize he has a perfect wife. While I do not approve of what you've done to demigods in the past, I understand that you must be furious with having to put up with all that crap for century after century. I don't blame you for being angry, but never think that you are the problem, okay?"

Hera looks shocked, and for a brief moment I'm very, _very_ thankful no one can kill me thanks to my Blessing. But then she grabs me and pulls me into a tight hug. My cheeks are wet, and I realize Hera has started crying again.

"Thank you Percy. No one has ever been so understanding before. It feels good to be able to talk to someone." She smiles at me, but it quickly turns into a glare. "And while I understand that you only did that to shake me out of my self loathing, never slap me again. Understood?"

I gulp nervously. "O-of course, Lady Hera."

She just smiles at me again, and we sit against the brazier in a comfortable silence, the only sound that of the peacock chirping as Hera pets it. Suddenly I hear a metallic _clink_, and look over at Hera, who looks on the brink of tears again. She is staring at a gold ring on her left ring finger, which has snapped. As I watch the ring repairs itself, but Hera still looks miserable.

"What was that?" I ask curiously.

"Whenever Zeus breaks his vows of faithfulness, my ring breaks, only to repair itself again. He just slept with another woman."

I just start rubbing her back again.

"Why did you ever marry that jerk in the first place?" I ask, angry at my uncle for causing such a sweet woman such grief.

"Out of shame." She whispers.

"What?"

Hera sighs. "Shortly after we overthrew our father, Kronos, Zeus came on to me. I rebuffed his advances. A few days later I found an abandoned baby bird in the forest, featherless and freezing. I took the poor creature to my chest and ran home to try and care for it. When I came to an empty clearing with no one around, the bird started to grow. Soon the bird turned into Zeus, who took me by surprise. He knocked me to the ground and he..." Hera's eyes water at the memory. I pull her into a comforting embrace. "When he was done... doing that to me, he teleported me to his palace, where I found a wedding ring and all my things. I was the Goddess of Marriage. To lose my maidenhood to someone other than my husband would be the ultimate dishonor, so I married Zeus to hide my shame."

"Why not leave him?"

"I can't. Goddess of Marriage, remember? If I divorced him it would destroy my reputation and tear Olympus apart. I tried to love him, to make it work. But I just can't."

"So it's better to be stuck in a loveless marriage then to be happy? No one should be forced into something like that. You're Hera, Queen of Olympus. You deserve to be happy, with or without him. If you really want to stay with him, make him change. Any relationship is a partnership, and if he wants to keep yours going he needs to understand that." I tell her calmly, leaving no room in my voice to book an argument.

"You're a good soul, Percy. Thank you for being here for me. I'll think about what you said." We resume our comfortable silence for awhile.

After some time, she reaches out to take my gold-encased hand.

"Tell me, why do you always wear this gauntlet, Percy?"

"My hand is mangled beyond use. The gauntlet makes it work right." I explain hesitantly.

"May I see it?"

I hesitate before willing the armor to retreat into the bracer. My fingers curl in on themselves again, and my thumb stiffens against my ring finger.

"Why hasn't your father healed this?" Hera asks, gently holding my hand.

"He is not very skilled in healing wounds. And this was a very severe injury, which occurred long ago."

"Well, I have a pretty good knack with this sort of thing." Hera says kindly. She raises my hand to her lips and gently kisses the palm of my hand. I feel a wave of cool energy wash over my entire arm, filling the tendons and veins that support my hand. A stronger feeling fills my fingers, and before my eyes I see them uncurl and straighten out. When the feeling has faded, I hold my hand up to my face and look over it in wonder. For the first time in nine years, I can move my hand completely on my own. While examining my hand, I notice something on my palm, right where Hera kissed it.

A small tattoo, shaped like a lotus blossom, sits in the center of my hand.

"What is this for, Lady Hera?" I ask, rubbing the tattoo with my thumb.

"A gift, a weapon worthy of my favorite demigod. Will it to grow, Perseus." Hers responds softly.

I focus on the tattoo and will it to grow and change, like I do with the rest of my weapons. There is an incredibly odd, itchy feeling, then I see wood start to grow out of my palm. The thin shaft of wood grows out to a length of six feet. It is made out of willow wood, and is carved with images of curling vines covered in lotus blossoms. At one end the wood encases itself in a butt of Olympian Silver, the same material Lady Artemis uses in her arrows. The other end of the staff- no, a spear I realize, grows a long leaf-shaped blade. The blade is made of Olympian Silver as well, but most of the spear blade is painted in enamel, creating a flawless image of a peacock feather.

"This spear was once wielded by my daughter Enyo, but when I realized what a monstrous creature she truly was I took it back. It is indestructible, and will always return to your hand if thrown. Wield it well, Percy." I stare at the spear and will it back into my tattoo. It itches like crazy going back in.

"Thank you, so much, Lady Hera. You are so kind, it saddens me to hear how you have been treated for so long."

"We are family, Percy. Please just call me Hera. I don't want you to feel afraid or too formal around me."

"Thank you, Hera." I look out one of the windows and I'm shocked to see stars in a black sky. It's nightfall; we've been talking for hours. As if sensing my thoughts, Hera conjures a soft blanket and tucks it around me like a mother would for her child. She pulls a pillow out of thin air and tucks it behind my head.

"Rest, Percy. You are safe here, and I will watch over you." She leans over and kisses my forehead as I start to drift off. She just gives off such a loving, motherly vibe that I barely register what I say as I fall asleep.

"Goodnight, mom. I love you."

I fall asleep before I see a large smile spread across her face, and tears of loving joy form in her eyes.

* * *

**A/N: FINALLY. Holy crap, that took forever. I kept rewriting the Thalia and Hera parts, cause I just couldn't get the right feel to it. So in this chapter he finally makes it to Camp Half-Blood. We see him make some friends with the other campers, including (well, especially) Thalia. We learn some more of Aurelius' mysterious history, and get some Percy/Hera mother/son bonding time. I like Hera; she gets all the crap in most stories. That myth, of Zeus turning into a flightless bird to rape Hera, is an actual myth by the way. So she was forced into marrying him. Also, most if not all of you hate Hercules. Good. I want you to hate him, because that's why I made him. **

**So, there's chapter 3, hope you liked it. Next chapter actually splices into the canon storyline with the Titan's Curse, so that'll be fun. Please remember to leave a review! Thanks.**


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